


nihilist blues

by youkanstay



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Angst, Badass Lee Minho | Lee Know, Doctor Hwang Hyunjin, Engineer Kim Seungmin, Engineer Yang Jeongin, Fluff, Hacker Bang Chan, Hacker Han Jisung, Hacker Seo Changbin, Happy Ending, I swear it makes sense, Lee Minho | Lee Know-centric, M/M, Much Slower Than Anticipated, Pseudoscience, Slow Burn, Strategist Lee Felix, Street Racer Hwang Hyunjin, Street Racer Lee Minho, Tags Are Hard, Tattoos, entirely inspired by two different dreams that i wrote as scenes, i can't do sad endings for my favorites so, it's not as messy as it sounds, then turned into a fic bc i wake up everyday and choose chaos, vaporwave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 100,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27164680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youkanstay/pseuds/youkanstay
Summary: “You don’t hear it?” His voice is strained as he reaches up to cover his ears, coming away with red on the tips of his fingers. Changbin stares in horror, but Chan’s expression is harder to read.“Hear what?” The oldest of the three asks. Minho points blindly at the screens.“That whirring noise, it’s literally screaming; how do you not hear it?”[ formerly titled : fall in deep ]
Relationships: Bang Chan/Lee Felix, Lee Minho | Lee Know & Everyone, Lee Minho | Lee Know/Seo Changbin, implied Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 44
Kudos: 117





	1. [initiate]

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaokat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaokat/gifts).
  * Inspired by [break your little heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25134124) by [gaokat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaokat/pseuds/gaokat). 



> hi stays! this is officially my first fic in a very long time, my first stray kids fic, and my first minbin fic. i'll admit this was meant to be an original story, but then i read gaokats [break your little heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25134124?view_full_work=true) and maybe i feel just a little bit in love with minho and changbin's dynamics hence, this fic was born. 
> 
> disclaimer: this fic is *obviously* a work of a fiction and in no way represents the members of stray kids in real life.

“You’re early.”

He hums, leaning back against the mirrored counter. “Yeah, got here before you.”

“Have you not been sleeping well?”

He looks up. “Oh.”

“Did you seriously think I was Jisung again?” He laughs at the indignant tone and shakes his head.

“Not this time. You sounded more like Chan hyung with the whole ‘are you not sleeping well,’ thing,” he points out. He receives a glare for his efforts and stands up, half smiling.

“Aww, poor Changbinnie,” he coos, hugging his arm and tickling the underside of his chin. “Is Binnie upset hyung didn’t notice him?”

Changbin glares harder. “Stop acting cute, it doesn’t suit you.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m not cute?”

“I’m not not saying that,” the younger evades, lifting the panel up and setting his bag down on the stool behind the counter. “Seriously hyung, you look like you haven’t slept in ages. You never come down here during my shift.”

The older shrugs, picking the bag up and sitting down on the stool instead. He rests his face in his palm, the blue-hued pink glow casting a shadow over his face, highlighting the slant of his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose, dancing over his sharp jawline.

Changbin doesn’t realize he’s staring until the older points it out curiously. 

“I know I’m pretty, but I really haven’t slept in a while, so you don’t have to keep staring.”

He rolls his eyes, clears his throat and looks away. Pulling two identical bottles from the mini fridge behind the counter, he offers one to his friend, gaze falling onto a swirling pattern.

“When did you have time to get a new tattoo?” he asks, gesturing with a bottle filled with liquid that glows cyan at the right angle. “I thought you’ve been at the Bureau for the past week.”

He frowns. “What tattoo?”

Changbin stares at him, taking his friend’s wrist in his hand and running his finger over the sangria colored bubbles that stare back at them before tracing them with a finger, the black nail contrasting against the bright tones. When he doesn’t say anything, he moves to let go of the wrist in hand.

“You painted them again.” A hand is now loosely curled around his wrist, the one that holds the tattooed wrist in his own.

“Minho hyung.” He isn’t sure why he says it, especially when Minho lets go of his wrist. He mourns the loss of contact for a second, although he’s more concerned about a tattoo he might not even remember getting, but before he can say anything Minho gently tugs him forward and wraps his arms around Changbin’s waist and rests his cheek against his torso as he turns back to the window.

The rain plops against the illuminated glass, each drop a different shade of pink, of blue, of purple. Changbin isn’t sure why Minho’s acting like this, but he leans over a little to put his hand on Minho’s shoulder anyway.

“Seriously hyung, are you sure you’re okay?” He feels more than sees the nod against his chest and hears a mumbled, “just haven’t been sleeping well.”

When Minho finally pulls away, he looks a bit better, as if a single hug could refresh him and give him a bit more energy.

His hair looks a bit fluffier too, and it takes the edge off his normally sharp and icy visuals. He’s reminded of their time at the academy and the sleepovers they’d had with all their friends, eight teens huddled on the small dorm room bed; Felix tucked into their oldest Chan’s side, their maknae Jeongin in the middle leaning slightly against Seungmin, Jisung next to Seungmin, curled around a pillow. 

Changbin was in the corner, leaning against the frame with Hyunjin’s arm tossed carelessly over his legs. Minho sat between Jisung and Changbin, Hyunjin leaning against his chest in a rare moment of peace between the normally chaotic duo.

The dorm power was out, and the academy didn’t even allow the old projectors the size of the phones that they held instead preferring the fingernail sized projectors that linked to the Network by default, but Chan had rewired an old one to let them watch movies. Whenever they’d gotten together, they often found themselves browsing through the older movies, the ones saturated with color and sunlight and storms: a stark contrast from their constant grey skies, dirty rain, and neon lights.

He flinches at the sound of the morning siren, grabbing Minho’s hand to pull him down, leaning over the hatch and tugging it aside. “Hyung, come on.”

“What are you doing?” Minho doesn’t look like he’s moving anytime soon, and illuminated by the flamingo colored backlight, he almost wants to tell him to stay, if only to admire his silhouette more, but the curfew has been getting more and more serious; he doesn’t want to risk it.

“There’s a tunnel back to 3racha’s place,” he says, knowing that it doesn’t explain anything, but they don’t have time for that. “Hyung, come _on_.”

This time, Minho listens, slipping through the trapdoor and slipping a little on the edge of the grate at the bottom of the tunnel, steadying himself with hands on Changbin’s waist. The younger stares back, eyes wide until Minho nudges him around, resting his chin on his shoulder as he closes the panel over their heads.

“What’s going on?” 

“They’re enforcing curfews a lot more now.” He steps around a muddy colored muddle, gesturing at it so that Minho won’t step in it either. “I thought Chan hyung would’ve told you by now. The sentient task force seems to be looking for something now, but no one really knows what it is. If anything, you might, given your connections to the Bureau.”

“As far as I know, the Bureau’s last policy was the sentient task force, but that was before time, so I doubt that’s what all this is about. I don’t remember hearing about the curfew at all though.” 

Changbin shrugs. “Worth a try. Just keep an eye out for anything about it, I guess. I don’t know much about them either; it’s just that Chan hyung and Felix seemed really worried, but all they said was they didn’t think they were real.”

“The Australian sector might know more about it; I could check their files,” Minho offers, stopping to look around the tunnel. “Not sure if I’ll have access without filing a request, but there _are_ ways to go around that. Why are we going to 3racha’s place?”

He glances over his shoulder to see the elder looking up a vented shaft and pulls him out from under it before any waste falls through. “Don’t do anything that’ll get you in trouble. The task force hasn’t spared anyone yet. Not even a lowly convenience store worker like me.”

“You’re just as skilled at hacking as Chan hyung, if not better in terms of deep-diving,” Minho counters. “You’re just not as good at hiding your trace.”

He scoffs. “I know that, but they don’t. At any rate, I’m better than Jisung at retracing. He gets messy, even if he gets the job done.”

“High praise, Seo-sshi,” Minho murmurs, trailing off as he looks ahead. “Should we call Hannie and let him know _the_ SpearB praised him. He might actually cry. We’re in the Buried District, aren’t we?”

Changbin smirks wolfishly, tilting his head in response, but doesn’t say anything more. He hears Minho scoff and can almost imagine him shaking his head. The door ahead of them is manual, one of the remaining few that hasn’t been digitized. He pushes the bar through the lock, turning the dial this way and that until it slides away, revealing an embossed number three on the other side of the door in a faded red. The camera at the top scans his vitals, then Minho’s before letting them pass at the absence of stress in Changbin’s.

When Chan had first established the place, he’d had Jeongin and Seungmin adjust a standard grade scanner to only permit entry for Changbin, Chan, and Jisung, with the scanner searching for signs of stress or unwillingness if they were to ever come with anyone.

Changbin had been worried for a moment when the scanner had taken a second longer than normal to let them pass, but it had only blinked pink as a mocking smile and let them pass. He cursed under his breath; of course Jeongin would give a _security scanner_ a personality.

Chan’s already waiting for them when they get there, but if he’s surprised to see Minho, he doesn’t comment on it.

“That fast?” is all he asks. Changbin nods.

“They would’ve gotten there sooner if you hadn’t stalled the lights; how did you know to do that, by the way?”

“Saw Minho on cams,” Chan admits. “I feel like I should be asking you why you’re awake now, but the power’s off in your pod too, so I figure Jisung would know.”

Changbin frowns, opening his mouth to ask why _Jisung_ would know, but Chan shakes his head. He knows the two of them had flirted with the an on and off thing, but neither of them had done much about it and the feelings between them appeared to have faded. 

Still, there are times where he wonders if that’s really true or if he’s convinced himself it is. Neither Minho nor Jisung have addressed it, not like they ever did in the first place.

But it appears that Minho is as lost by the implication as Changbin is, if the furrow in his brow is anything to go by. “What does Jisungie have to do with anything?”

Chan blinks, tilting his head. “You and he didn’t—No? Never mind. Why is the power off in your pod then?”

“AVA’s loud in the mornings,” he answers, absentmindedly pressing his thumbs against his temple. “Thought I’d bless Binnie with my visuals on his shift.”

“It’s not even really morning yet,” Chan points out when Changbin flushes and doesn’t respond. “Doesn’t the Bureau require you to keep it on?”

Minho shrugs, taking in the large screens that line the wall in front of Chan. “Don’t think it’s mandated yet. I’ll probably move out if they do.”

His building is unique to the members of the Bureau, and accessible to only them. Each pod comes equipped with AVA, electricity, and all the other commodities the Bureau can’t bother to give the district’s other residents. Minho often sneaks his friends up so they can use the facilities free of charge, but more often than not, security is too tight even for that.

“Don’t quit your job just yet,” Chan cautions. “There’s still plenty we could learn from the Bureau. Felix and I were investigating it before, but it was never safe to talk about it in the district—the Bureau was always listening, and the sentients were a concern too, but have you found that they’ve been looking for anything specifically?”

He turns back to the screen, beckoning over his shoulder for the other two to take a look. Changbin leans against the back of the chair, staring at what appears to be a blueprint of the district.

Next to him, Minho winces, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head away from the light of the screen. Changbin places a hand on his arm, but Minho flinches away, leaving his hand awkwardly in the air.

“You don’t hear it?” His voice is strained as he reaches up to cover his ears, coming away with red on the tips of his fingers. Changbin stares in horror, but Chan’s expression is harder to read.

“Hear what?” The oldest of the three asks. Minho points blindly in the direction of the screens.

“That whirring noise, it’s literally screaming; how do you not hear it?” 

At that, Chan stands up, pressing a button on the side. Minho flinches once more at the click. While Changbin helplessly stares at the situation in front of him, Chan pulls out a small vial, filled with a silver liquid that doesn’t stick to the sides of the bottle regardless of how he swirls it, along with a thin sealed needle.

“Hyung, what—”

Changbin stops short when Chan holds the vial out to Minho. “It’ll help,” he whispers, voice level despite how quiet it is, needle in his other hand.

“Minho, we don’t have time now, but I promise I’ll explain when I can,” Chan continues. “You need to take this so we can move. It’ll dull the sensory overload for a little bit.”

“Hyung, what’s going on?” Changbin demands, although he does take care to whisper too, gaze flickering between Minho’s crouched stance on the grate and Chan kneeling next to him, offering the needle and liquid. “What sensory overload?”

“Do it,” Minho interrupts, before he can answer. “The Bureau is already on their way. There’s no way they haven’t figured it out yet.”

“They’ve been tracking you?”

He nods, but it’s not the full story, not with his eyes still clenched shut as Chan carefully helps him to his feet. Once he’s standing, Chan turns to sterilize the needle, heating it careful with a small flame. Minho leans over to see, stumbling slightly. Before Changbin can think twice, he’s steadying him with a hand holding his elbow.

He expects Minho to flinch and pull away the way he did before, but when he only exhales heavily, he moves to let go on his own.

“Don’t.”

He blinks, looking back to meet Minho’s gaze. As pained as it is, he seems to be clear in his meaning. Changbin leaves his hand where it is.

“This is going to hurt,” Chan warns, to which Minho scoffs. “Can’t be any worse than whatever just happened.”

Chan looks back at the screen, the flickering teal light illuminating his ruminating features. “It’s not overwhelming right now?” 

“It is. It just comes and goes. It’s never been this bad before though.”

Chan nods at that, blowing the green flame out and filling the needle. “You should be sitting down for this. Changbin, can you hold him?”

“Hold him?”

“Hold me?”

“The sudden sensory deprivation will hurt less if there’s someone for you to latch onto as soon as it hits. I can’t hold you and administer the treatment, and besides that, Changbin’s a better choice.”

He nods slowly, letting Chan maneuver them so that Minho’s sitting on the guardrail platform next to the monitor platform with Changbin standing between his legs, arms loosely looped around his waist, so he won’t contribute to the sensory overload before the deprivation sets in.

“It’ll take effect the minute the needle’s empty. We have two minutes from when I inject it for your senses to return to normal; after that, we need to get out of here. That gives us barely enough time before the Bureau figures out that we’re not in the district plaza.”

Minho sets his jacket aside, the turquoise light bouncing off the reflective material before tugging his hoodie off halfway so that his right arm is bare. Changbin runs his fingers over the mesh in the back, absentmindedly slipping over bare skin before trailing back up the mesh material again. When he trails them over the tattoo below his ribs, Minho inhales sharply, exhaling only when the fingers drift away from the inked words.

Chan wipes an antiseptic swab over the inside of his elbow, gloved hand pinching the vein to make it easier to inject. The needle isn’t too big, but it is longer than the ones the medicinal department typically uses, if Hyunjin’s fear of his own job is anything to go by. 

Minho only winces when Chan inserts it, hand tightening where it grips Changbin’s shoulder. He feels the hand tighten in time with the silver liquid draining from the body of the needle and can even pinpoint the minute it takes effect. 

The older practical slumps forward, forehead resting on the top of his head. “Any better, hyung?” Minho leans back a little, but only enough to be able to meet Changbin’s worried gaze.

“Yeah,” he murmurs thickly, tucking his head into his neck and shuddering a little when his hands settle at his waist to help him down without breaking the contact. “‘S nice. You smell nice.”

His eyes widen and he sputters to answer while Chan just laughs in the background, the jerk. He’s already shut off the screens, folded them into the pockets of Minho’s coat, and shrugged the coat on himself. He dims the lights using a rusted panel by the door, locking the vault from the inside to buy them whatever time it can.

Minho’s two minutes are up, and Changbin wishes it had lasted longer as he steps back and helps him straighten out his hoodie, running his hands against the mesh back once more before tugging his own hood over his head. He hands Minho his spare visor, the alien glow in the underground district casting patterns over the exposed pipes.

Chan leads them through another tunnel to their left, turning once, twice, thrice, before Changbin’s sure he’s lost any semblance of direction in the abandoned district. When they do finally stop, he finds himself staring at two very familiar hovercycles.

Minho is the first to speak. “Absolutely not.”

Changbin is inclined to agree. There’s no way the Bureau won’t notice their two most wanted hovercycles, not to mention three people riding them, only one of whom is the racer they’re looking for.

“Hyunjin said you wouldn’t mind,” Chan shrugs. Minho clenches his jaw before exhaling shortly.

“ _Hyunjin_ is not here right now,” he grits out. “We agreed to stop because it was getting too risky. There was no way the med department wasn’t going to notice it was him if he kept growing his hair and refusing to wear a helmet.”

Changbin raises his eyebrows skeptically, tugging the indigo hair at the back of his friend’s neck. “Your hair’s getting pretty long too. And it’s not like you wore a helmet either.”

“Sure,” he agrees easily. “But I wasn’t attracting attention the way Hyunjin was. And as the hyung of that relationship, it was my responsibility to make sure we didn’t screw things up.”

“I still don’t get why you stopped,” Changbin muses, catching what Chan tosses to him before frowning. “Wait, these aren’t for hovercycles. And I’m pretty sure you were attracting the same kind of attention, if not more.”

I would know, is what he doesn’t say. Jisung wasn’t the only one who saw you that day, he doesn’t say. 

“Jisung worried a lot,” Chan comments offhandedly. Changbin catches Minho’s eyeroll and wonders what all that is about.

“ _Jisungie_ worries about you too, hyung,” Minho bites out, expression betraying nothing. “Things got pretty complicated when the Bureau implemented the sentient task force. I was only promoted after they’d confirmed the force, otherwise I would have probably applied to be a part of it. The races would have compromised everything we’d worked towards, so we mutually agreed to hold off until things calmed down.”

He takes the tablet from Chan, swiping his fingerprint over it before scanning his eyes too. “You know this’ll only make it more obvious that you’ve got someone from the Bureau on your side?”

“Just because they’ve been looking for a leak in the Bureau doesn’t mean they’ll connect it to 3racha,” Chan clarifies, pocketing the tablet and unlocking the door to a vehicle they most definitely should not have.

“Okay, since when have you had a hovercraft?” 

Minho turns to Chan with a smirk, eyebrow arched. “You didn’t tell him.” It’s not a question, but a smug, prideful statement.

Chan has the decency to look sheepish. “It’s not _mine_ , really.”

Minho outright laughs, hood slipping off his dark indigo hair. “It’s not his at all, is what he means. Hyunjin and I stole one from the Bureau when we first met; Innie and Seungmin practically stripped it for its parts and played around with it until they managed to figure out cloaking, all while disabling the Bureau’s tracking algorithm.”

He starts the hovercraft with the ease of someone who might as well have built it, though Chan and Changbin both know Minho’s hopeless when it comes to any engineering endeavors. His skill set lies in the matters of the mind and the body, as a Bureaucrat and general menace to the district. Changbin climbs in behind him, leaving behind the aegean gray walls and poor recessed lighting for the red toned screens flickering in the hovercraft. Chan seals the second panel once more, closing the hovercraft behind him.

“I’m driving,” he says, sending Minho’s seat to the back with a swipe of his finger.

Minho frowns. “I’m the best pilot you have.”

“And you’re compromised temporarily, so I’m driving.”

“You said that would help.”

Chan glances over his shoulder, tapping the calibrator on his forehead and checking the mirrored light on the rear camera. “Temporarily, yes.”

At this, Minho huffs and sinks down on the second chair, glaring as he looks off to the side. Changbin hesitates, standing by the door awkwardly until Chan notices.

“What are you doing? Go sit down,” he says. “We’re primed for takeoff. Minho, feel free to share your seat with Changbin.”

Changbin sits down stiffly perpendicular to him in the passenger’s seat, his legs over the older’s lap and Minho’s arms resting loosely over his thighs. In front of them, Chan slides the gear into the first phase, the engine hum quieter than footsteps under them. He pulls the tablet from a sealed side pocket behind him, unlocking it and switching to the Buried District’s security camera system. 

“The Bureau just arrived,” Minho murmurs, resting his chin on Changbin’s shoulder as he watches the screen. “Hyung, you’ve got a minute to take off before you’ve used up too much time.”

Chan nods, sliding the gear into the second phase, lifting the craft with a tap to the calibrator sitting over his left tle. The hovercraft angles smoothly enough, tilting backwards until they’re practically vertical, Minho’s arms tightening to keep him in place. From there, Chan guides it out of the narrow passageways with minor fumbles that have Minho grumbling about how he could have flown it better.

By the time the Bureau manages to unlock the door, they’re already halfway back to the rendezvous point; an abandoned parking garage that towers over the old android manufacturing city. The smog is bad enough that they’ll need to switch out their cloth masks for filtered ones, but the building is the Bureau’s worst blind spot, so it’s the best they have.

When they land, Jisung and Felix are already waiting for them; Jisung in his ragtag fashion, a combination of the district’s staples and his own color scheme, and Felix in a crisp trench coat and neatly kept boots with brightly colored blue laces to match his hair.

“Minho hyung!” Both yell at the same time and Changbin thinks he’s the only one that notices Minho tense up, despite the silver concoction Chan gave him to cancel out the sensory overload. Still, Felix gets there first, throwing his arms around the older and hugging him tightly.

Minho has a soft spot for all of them, even if he never shows it, but especially for Felix. When Felix and Chan had been assigned to the district, they had planned on transferring together, but the process had fallen through. Felix had found himself lost in Bureau territory, where Minho had taken him in and helped him reconnect with Chan, all while teaching him the language.

Minho ruffled his hair under the hood, tugging the bandana over his eyes and cackling when Felix slapped his arm in retaliation. “What’s with the welcome, huh?”

“Chan hyung told us what happened,” Jisung interrupts, shoving Felix to the side to try and get his own hug in, but Felix refuses to budge. “Hyung, are you okay?”

“Yah, the respect really,” Changbin grumbles. “Minho hyung, you would really think these two hadn’t seen you in years, the way they’re crying all over you.”

While Felix and Jisung immediately begin to defend themselves, Minho smirks, one arm around Jisung’s shoulders, another around Felix’s waist. “Aigoo, go show poor Changbinnie some love too, he’s just jealous I’m your favorite hyung—”

“That’s not it at all!”

“Yeah!” Jisung choruses. “Chan hyung is my favorite!”

Chan mutters something on the side about not wanting Jisung as his favorite and thinking that Felix thought he was his favorite, but Felix just smiles smugly, rubbing his hair in Minho’s face, bandana back in place. 

“Hyunjin agreed to take a look at your vitals when he gets home,” Chan announces, resisting Jisung’s forceful hug. “Minho, when’s Bureau curfew?”

“There isn’t one,” he admits. “Bureaucrats' hours vary, so they never set a curfew. Can we get off the roof now?”

He’s eyeing the side of the building as if it’ll drop off and leave him stranded mid air, but in his defense, Jisung looks equally uncomfortable. Chan, picking up on their acrophobia, guides them to the elevator, a broken rickety thing that they only bother taking because it’s faster than walking down 129 floors on their own. 

He glances back once to check that the hovercraft is properly cloaked before closing the elevator doors. Felix briefs them during the descent, still clinging to Minho with a slight smile. 

Changbin suspects that both Felix and Chan know more about what happened, and that whatever they know scares Felix enough into behaving the way he is now. He knows that they all trust each other, but when it comes to Felix and Chan, their relationship is simply more complicated.

The elevator slows to a stop, quieter than it ever has before, but the metal gates still screech when they push on it. Thankfully, the sound of the former manufacturing facility turned electronic waste processing facility covers up the sound, allowing them to slip back into their district undetected.

On the way to Hyunjin and Felix’s apartment, they decide it’s best for them to all stay the night there, just to be on the safer side. The odd curfew hours keep shifting and it’s in their best interests to avoid the Bureau at all costs. 

Chan and Felix keep looking at Minho as if he’ll break any second, and Changbin thinks their paranoia is rubbing off on him. It’s clear the person they’re concerned about has noticed too, rolling his eyes when Felix attempts to carry him through the medic’s hall. The Bureau seems to have abstained from curtailing their medic’s movements, so there’s still a party down the hall, lights colors reminiscent of their movies slipping through the crack in the door.

The security at the front door hadn’t given them a second glance, fast asleep by the camera screens, which Chan had taken the liberty of intercepting the signal of, giving his phone direct access to the building’s security footage.

The hallway where Hyunjin’s pod is remains relatively quieter, the soft static of the screens lights the hallway in a pale glow, but nothing as intense as the kaleidoscopic parties on the floors below.

“Hyung!” Hyunjin’s exclamation has Minho flinching again, although this time, Changbin’s certain Felix has caught on too. He pulls Minho from Felix, practically dragging him to the common area, immediately checking his pupils and pulse.

When he’s finished reviewing his basic vitals, Hyunjin admits he can’t see anything wrong on the surface, but that further testing would draw the attention of the Bureau.

“Now that you mention it, actually, they’ve been super nosy lately,” he says. Chan scoffs, perched on the holographic arm of the sofa.

“When aren’t they?” Felix nods in agreement as he reemerges from his room, clad in a graphic t-shirt and a pair of track pants. He offers the rest of them clean clothes to change into, rather than sitting in their polluted outerwear.

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, they’re definitely looking for something. They were never that interested in med work before this. There’s more, but I’m sure you guys’ll want to get more comfortable before we figure them out.”

Chan and Jisung head in first, not minding sharing a shower with the holographic screen separating them. Changbin tries to not think about how it’ll be his and Minho’s turn next, although he’s not sure why. The technology is advanced enough and realistic enough to be a real display screen and not a projected on.

“Seungminnie and Jeonginnie said they’ll be here any minute now,” Felix reports, looking up from the purple screen in the kitchen. “Has anyone seen Chan hyung’s phone? He said he has access to our security cams now; I want to make sure they get in alright.”

Minho huffs a laugh from the sofa, his head tilted back over the end. “Security’s literally sleeping on the job. Don’t think you’ll have too much to worry about, Lixie.”

Felix smiles at the nickname, but he still takes Chan’s phone from Hyunjin to monitor the situation.

“What’s the verdict then?” Changbin asks their resident doctor. He hears the running water shut off down the hallway and tenses.

Hyunjin shakes his head, patting Minho’s hair a little before resorting to brushing his fingers through his bangs. “Honestly? I have no idea. Sensory overload hasn’t been a problem since JYPCorp tweaked their cosmetic implants, but that’s not exactly the problem either, since it’s not a constant sensory overload. The implants were my best bet, based on what Chan hyun told me, but they also permanently dim the senses, and I don’t see that helping him in any way.”

“What about the tests you were considering?” A cyan light in the corner flickers; Minho squeezes his eyes shut. Instinctively, Changbin rests his hand over his eyes, watching as he exhales slowly, relaxing into the silvery pattern.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything and when Changbin looks up, he finds the medic staring at his hand. He goes to move it away, but Minho places his own over it to hold it in place.

“Feels nice,” he murmurs. “‘S cold.”

He got like this last time too, Changbin remembers. All soft and pliant and relaxed.

“That’s certainly interesting,” Hyunjin muses, a knowing glint in his eyes that suggests nothing but trouble in their future. “Although I doubt it, hyung, would you consider yourself to be touch starved?”

Under his hand, Minho blinks, eyelashes flitting against his palm. “No? Felix was just clinging to me like a baby koala; I literally slept over last week because Felix wasn’t home and you felt like cuddling.”

Hyunjin nods as if he expected that to be the case, but then he looks at Changbin knowingly, leaving him to wonder if the question was for _his_ benefit and not Minho’s.

“Shower’s free,” Jisung announces at the same time that the pod door opens. “Oh, Seungminnie, hi.”

Seungmin looks affronted at the greeting. “ _Oh, Seungminnie, hi_ yourself, Hannie. You could have at least left a note instead of just disappearing like that. I get up to get those gummy snacks you asked for and when I come back you’re gone. I seriously would have thought the Bureau had gotten you if Chan hyung hadn’t messaged me.”

Ignoring his guilty (but still confused) friend, he turns to the trio on the sofa. “Minho hyung, how are you?”

“Yah, why is everyone acting like I’m dying? I’m fine, really, it might just be the fumes from construction getting to my head.”

“Hyunjin, what’s the diagnosis?” Their youngest, Jeongin, asks from behind Seungmin. Hyunjin shrugs, standing up to dim the window.

“Why’s Changbin hyung’s hand over your eyes?” Jeongin asks when Hyunjin offers nothing more. 

Minho huffs a laugh, turning in to the aforementioned hand. “Just feels nice, Innie. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

In the kitchen, the sound of a glass shattering has Minho flinching and Jisung jumping up to see what happened. Chan and Felix look out over the counter guiltily.

“Sorry Minho,” Chan apologizes.

“Yeah, sorry hyung,” Felix adds. “We’ll try to be a bit quieter.”

They both offer their silence without him even asking, so Changbin supposes that’s why he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he sighs and slowly lowers the hand from his face with a loose grip around the wrist, blinking up at the Changbin under the purple light.

“Shower’s free,” he echoes. And Changbin gets it, so he helps him to his feet, letting him lean against him just in case, but also subtly enough that the others won’t immediately comment on it.

Jisung and Chan left the lights off, but when Changbin reaches for the panel, his hand is batted away, before he’s led to the bathroom. The large glass wall on the side of the shower provides a view of the city, but more importantly enough light to be able to shower without having to turn on any additional light, and they’re high enough that no one can see them either.

“Right or left?” Minho asks, hand pressing where Chan had administered the serum. Changbin pries the hand off and interlaces their fingers to keep him from bruising his own arm with the pressure.

“Don’t really care,” he says. “We could honestly both just look away so we don’t have to turn on the divider screen either,” he offers after a beat. When Minho sighs in relief and nods, he can’t help but feel a little better, despite how awkward he still finds the situation.

They strip and shower in silence, the only fumble when they both reach for the same towel. Changbin drops his hand quickly enough, but he can still hear Minho’s slight giggle at the mishap as he hurriedly dries himself with the other one. The clothes Felix has set out for them fit poorly; Hyunjin’s shirt is too short for Minho and Felix’s pants are too long for Changbin, but they’re far more comfortable than the necessary industrial wear.

“That thing Chan hyung gave you is still working right?” He thinks it is; Minho’s not curled up on the floor and his ears aren’t bleeding, but he knows that the other is good at hiding his pain too, so he asks to be sure.

Minho shrugs. “It’s worked so far, but it’s wearing off; I can tell.”

“He has more with him if you need it,” Changbin offers, remembering the silver liquid dancing in the bottles lining Minho’s coat, stuffed between 3racha’s screens. Minho shakes his head, draping the towel over his wet hair.

“It’s not so bad,” he says. “I’ll manage.”

“Sure, for now, but you can’t go back to work until we have a better way of helping.”

“Hyunjin doesn’t have any ideas on what the diagnosis is, let alone the cure. Not to mention that it’s never been this strong before, so it could be a freak accident.”

Changbin shakes his head. “It’s not a freak accident; it could be a reaction to something in the Buried District.”

“While I agree that something there likely triggered it, I don’t think it’s the root cause.”

“Still. Sorry.”

Minho scoffs, pushing Changbin to the side as he turns to leave. “What are you sorry for? I was the one who showed up unannounced and almost got you caught. I’m sorry, if anything, that you had to step in. I really should have remembered, and I swear I heard it somewhere, but I guess I just haven’t been sleeping too well.”

“That’s not your fault either,” the younger points out, pulling Minho back with the hand he’d pressed against his shoulder previously. 

Minho presses his lips together, looking out the window that’s now fogged up with the steam from their showers. “Maybe it’s the lack of sleep.”

“Chan hyung literally never sleeps and I don’t think he has ever had a breakdown over the screen buzzing. Hyung, your ears were bleeding and neither of us even _heard_ it.”

He nods slowly, drying his hair lazily with the towel before letting it fall around his neck. “Hyunjin had more to say though. I wouldn’t worry too much, Changbinnie. I’m sure it’ll all be fine.”

He certainly hopes so too.

When they get back to the common area, Jisung settles himself in his best friend’s lap with arms thrown haphazardly over Minho’s shoulder as he rests his cheek against his shoulder and his back against the sofa’s armrest.

Minho pulls Changbin down in front of him with his free hand when he decides to sit on the other end of the sofa and give them space, the other resting around Jisung.

“So they’ve finally figured it out?” Chan is asking, when Changbin finally tunes back into the conversation.

Felix shakes his head. “They’ve had to have known for a while now, for sure. The Bureau is insanely methodical; they’re searching the med department as a last resort for sure. Remember how little they cared about Hyunjin and Minho hyung’s racing? It’s only because they stood to gain from it. They probably could have stopped the races anytime they wanted, now that I think about it.”

That’s a serious thought, and one that has all of them glad that for whatever reason, Hyunjin and Minho remain free from the Bureaucratic eye. Changbin glances at Minho, who is now leaning against the Jisung. 

Well, mostly free, anyway.

A light flickers in the corner, the room no longer illuminated by purple but a blue glow that takes its place. Hyunjin holds one of 3racha’s screens in his hands, scrolling through their archive.

“They’ve honed in on JYPCorp and the implants,” he says, handing the tablet in Jisung and Changbin’s direction. “I doubt JYP has anything to do with what they’re looking for—the company loves the Bureau—but their focus has been on the sensory overload implants. They’ve obtained access to every S.O patient we have on file—that’s why I didn’t want to risk doing the scans.”

Seungmin stands up to look at the screen in Jisung’s hand. “Do you not have the schematics of the scanner? Jeongin and I could try to replicate it.”

“We have old blueprints,” Jisung admits, patting Minho’s head softly. “I’m assuming they won’t work, though. The current models are far more accurate and safer than the scans we have.”

Jeongin crosses his arms, the sofa squeaking when he shifts his legs. “We could make the modifications, but I’m not sure how safe they would be,” he admits. “Is there any other way to figure out what’s going on?”

Changbin glances over at Chan and Felix once more. The former Australian District residents seem to still be withholding something, whispering back and forth between each other. Normally, he wouldn’t even care—that’s just how Chan and Felix were, in their own world, sometimes—but if they had any information that could help the situation, it would probably make a difference.

“Chan hyung, you mentioned the task force and sentinels?” Changbin prompts finally remembering the word he’d meant to ask Minho to look into, watching Chan and Felix both jump at being interrupted. In their own world indeed.

Chan frowns, sharing a pointed look with Felix before turning back to the group. “Sentinels are—”

“An extremely complicated cryptid of a myth with no substantial evidence available to the public on whether their existence is real or not,” Felix interrupts, calculated gaze trained on a pulsing light in the kitchen.

Minho raises his head, blinking. “What’s that ticking noise?”

They all turn to look at him. “There is no ticking noise,” Jisung murmurs, but Minho shakes his head, pushing the younger off his lap and pointing in the direction of where Felix had previously been looking.

“There,” he states. “It’s ticking.”

Seungmin and Chan share a look before cautiously making their way to the kitchen while Minho verbally guides them. Hyunjin packs the screens up in a bag, grabbing whatever else he deems important and throwing that in there as well.

“Is it a camera?” Jeongin asks, standing on the sofa to get a broader field of vision. 

Before anyone can answer, Minho raises his arm. “Wait, get back!”

“It’s a timer,” Changbin surmises. “An EMP, right?”

“We need to get out of here,” Felix says. “The only exit route out of here is through the front door, but if we start the hovercraft now, we’ll make it to the roof in time for it to land. It’ll be a tight fit, but they’re definitely designed to handle at least twice as much weight, so we won’t be losing any speed either. The only problem is figuring out where to do.”

“The android wasteland,” Hyunjin breathes in a rush. “Minho hyung, sorry it’ll be a nightmare for your senses, but Chan told me he has a temporary suppressant so it should hold out long enough for us to be able to get to the outer ring, right, Felix?”

Felix nods. “That would work.” At his okay, Chan and Seungmin turned away from the kitchen.

“Okay, Jeongin, call the hovercraft to the roof. Jisung, Felix; get whatever we’ll need from here. Hyunjin, help Minho up to the roof. Seungmin, keep watch. Changbin, you and I will sync the phones and start the countdown.”

Jisung nods, and he and Felix both turn to their rooms to gather anything that could help them. Seungmin stands by the door, monitoring the entrance panel closely. Hyunjin follows Minho out the door, a hand carefully on his back to keep him steady just in case, presumably up one last flight of stairs to the roof.

Changbin takes the screen from Jeongin, who’s already called the hovercraft before joining Jisung and Felix in packing. “Sync’s a success,” he informs Chan. “Should we scramble the Bureau’s signals to the building as well?”

“The EMP will draw their attention regardless,” Chan answers. “It would be pointless to mess with their system when their own setup will mess it up on its own. As long as those three have everything, I think we’re good to go. Changbin, Seungmin, go ahead and join Hyunjin and Minho up on the roof—we’ll meet you guys there in a minute.”

Changbin nods at Seungmin, who locks the door behind them. The hallway is empty, and darker than it was when they landed. Even the artificial light of the illuminated windows barely lights their way. The stairway is darker still, the only light being from a single red led strip on each step.

Minho is clinging to Hyunjin on the roof, knuckles turning white where he’s gripping the younger’s arm. He doesn’t turn around when the other two join them, but he does seem to relax a little when Changbin holds his other hand and Seungmin stands behind him. 

The hovercraft lands just as the remaining four arrive on the roof. “There’s only two seats,” Chan clarifies. Jeongin gives him a weird look.

“There’s six pop up seats under the closing panel.” Changbin glares at Chan for no reason other than his own embarrassment and discomfort from their ride here. Chan pointedly looks away, helping Felix load their supplies into the side compartment while the others get in.

“If there’s seven seats, then I don’t have to sit on anyone,” Changbin announces. Jisung winces slightly.

“But hyung we’re eight and you’re the smallest.” Changbin is ready to fight him right now, never mind that he’s Minho’s best friend. The kid’s a centimeter taller than him, where does he get off saying he’s the smallest?

Seungmin, their most rational, nods in agreement. “Yeah, and Minho hyung’s the strongest, so he’ll be able to stand your weight.”

Minho’s death grip tightens. “I see we’re still pretending we don’t have a good pilot among us,” he mutters darkly, risking a glance at the edge of the building, before raising his voice. “At least let Hyunjin drive. He’s likely a better pilot than Chan hyung anyway, since the hovercycles are similar enough to the hovercrafts.”

Hyunjin attempts to drag him towards the hovercraft. “I’ve also never driven before, so I’ll pass on that, hyung. Hurry up and get in here.”

Minho does as he’s told, although he drags Changbin in with him, his grip on his hand unrelenting.

The minute they talk off, as per Felix’s prediction, the building folds inwards, the EMP blast knocking the entire floor out. The residents were likely saved by the transmitter, but the Bureau’s arrival is sooner than they had planned for.

“Can this thing go any faster?” Chan complains from the pilot’s seat. Next to him, Felix and Jeongin are reviewing the panel functions in an attempt to help him figure it out.

Below Changbin, Minho is still grumbling about how they wouldn’t have had to worry about any of it if they had just let him drive. 

Their landing in the android wasteland is rougher than Chan’s previous, and it has all of them clinging to whatever they can as the hovercraft screeches to a stop. 

“You,” Jisung pants from where he’s doubled over on his stool, “are never driving again.”

Seungmin and Hyunjin mutter their agreements from where they’ve fallen over each other, each clinging to the other’s seat. Felix and Jeongin appear to be the best off, tucked under the passenger seat. Chan looks just as shocked by his own driving, eyes wide and breathing heavily.

He mumbles a sheepish apology, but Changbin’s no longer focusing on that. Minho’s entirely tense, eyes squeezed shut once more. Changbin leans closer, placing his hand over his eyes when he notices the light on his face.

“Hey, you okay?” Minho doesn’t say anything, breathing shallowly as he leans into the hand. He can’t tell if he relaxes much; his eyes are still too tightly closed. Changbin moves his hand away, Minho chasing it with a soft whine, before he brushes a finger under his eyelashes, over the delicate skin under his eyes.

Hyunjin looks apologetic when he interrupts them, needle and vial in hand. “Chan hyung gave it to me, but if it’s worked so far, it should be fine now too. I check the chemical makeup and it should be safe to take another dose now, since you didn’t react to it badly before.”

In front, Chan shuts the hovercraft down, the red light fading into the dull ochre of the wasteland. Hyunjin preps the needle meticulously, filling the barrel with the silver substance. They move to the bay window to give Hyunjin more space to work with, Minho leaning back against Changbin.

“Do you want me to get anyone?” He asks Hyunjin, watching the younger set the vial aside.

He shakes his head. “Nope. Chan told me it worked just fine with both of you the first time around, and I don’t want to experiment with that yet. The sensory deprivation might be worse this time, so just stay close for a bit longer, you could probably just carry him and walk if it’s _really_ bad.”

He’s more disciplined in administering the needle and releasing the liquid and obviously far more precise than Chan. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to make a difference in the amount of pain in the way Minho tenses, his other hand tightly holding his knee. Hyunjin helps move Minho so that he’s able to comfortably lean his side against Changbin, head against Changbin’s shoulder before sitting down on the other side and wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist while waiting for the others to join them once more.

“Chan hyung screwed up,” Jisung announces too gleeful to be serious. “I mean, Seungmin and Innie are going to have such a hard time fixing this up again, and after all the trouble Minho hyung went to… Chan hyung, you’re never driving again!” 

He notices the three curled together in the windowsill and raises his eyebrows. “Oh. Minho hyung, seriously, what did you do?”

He sits next to Minho’s leg regardless, resting his chin on his thigh like an overgrown housecat regardless of his question. Minho lazily swats him away once, but gives up on his second try, simply resting his hand on the younger’s head.

Felix plops down on Changbin’s other side, practically cackling as he walks in, but sobering up when he notices their little cuddle session. He leans over to pat Minho’s thigh comfortingly before leaning back.

Seungmin and Jeongin both walk in with thunderous looks, Chan following them with a sheepishly guilty smile. “So, the hovercraft would not be camouflaging anytime soon if it wasn’t for our amazing engineers,” he explains, closing the door behind them, but leaving the glass untinted, the filtered orange haze casting a shadow over the steel cabin. 

He hesitates, about to sit in the pilot’s seat once more, but after glancing at Jeongin and Seungmin, settles for the passenger’s seat. “Minho, how are you?”

“Hyunjin knows how to use a needle, so you know, there’s that,” Minho says. “You’re all overreacting; I’m just tired.”

Not unexpectedly, no one believes him. Jisung even mimes biting his knee, for whatever reason. Before the silence that follows his claim can get too awkward, Chan nods brusquely, tapping the side of his chair.

“We really hoped it wasn’t going to come to this,” he begins. “Seriously, we never had no idea the Bureau would figure it out this quickly. We thought we had more time, so we waited, but looking back—”

“We may have made a mistake,” Felix interjects softly, bangs obscuring his vision. “So we’re sorry.”

Hyunjin sits up abruptly, mumbling an apology to Minho, who’s jostled by the movement. “Wait, is this the thing you couldn’t tell us in my pod? Sentient-somethings?”

Felix looks away, slowly shifting away from Changbin. The older holds him in place with a hand on his knee, but says nothing. He isn’t sure what to think of all of this. On one hand, maybe Minho wouldn’t be in the condition he is now if they’d told them. On the other hand, they might have told them and things might not have changed. Not to mention Chan and Felix telling them now might not even change anything.

He isn’t sure which is worse.

“Now that I think back on it, what was that all about?” Seungmin questions from the pilot’s seat.

Jeongin, who has stayed silent for the most part shifts. “We all know there was a reason you and Felix transferred, but none of us ever asked about it because it wasn’t our business. But if it can help Minho hyung, then why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’m not an invalid, Innie, I’m just temporarily handicapped. Wouldn’t be too fair to all of you if I was always good at everything, now would it?”

Jisung huffs a laugh, but even he doesn’t sound like he believes it. Chan sighs, shifting his gaze to the floor, eyes tracing the seams of the hull. Felix brushes Changbin’s hand off his leg and stands up, arms crossed and a leg resting on the bay window where he’d previously sat as he leans against the side of the craft.

“Sorry Minho yah,” Chan mumbles, finally looking back up to meet all of their gazes. Felix looks worse; if Chan looks remorseful, the kid looks heartbroken. Changbin wants to say he doesn’t care about how they’re feeling—it’s their fault they never said anything and now feel guilty about it—but that’s not the truth either. He’s worried about Minho for sure, but he can’t say he doesn’t feel anything for his friends either.

It’s just a messy situation

“Stop stalling and spit it out,” Changbin finally sighs. “Hyung, whatever your reasons for keeping it a secret were, it’s pointless now.”

“Now that we’re away from the Bureau’s range, I guess it’s time for us to come clean.”


	2. [activate]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s one other possibility for what it could be, isn’t there.” It isn’t a question, and for the first time since the hovercycle incident, Jisung thinks Hwang Hyunjin is intimidating.
> 
> It could also be because he’s glaring and taller and prettier than the rest of them, but Hyunjin’s just a giant in comparison to them so that is irrelevant.
> 
> Felix looks away, gaze falling on the chronometer. 22:35:07, the cyan numbering reads. “It’s the first thing I thought of when Chan hyung told me what happened.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a little early/bonus update for minho's birthday! i'll be honest, this fic is really squeezing my writing abilities; i mean, my previous record was max a 1000 words in a day, and here i am with 9000+ in one night? the stray kids effect indeed.
> 
> there's a little note for minho at the end (and i say little graciously because i'm now someone who uses too many words) but i just wanted to let y'all know that i'll be updating this again as early as thursday because it's my birthday and i'll write if i want to ;) so don't worry if you feel like you've missed a character or too because they'll definitely be the focus of the next update.
> 
> thanks for reading and i hope y'all enjoy!

When Chan says that he and Felix have been hiding something, Jisung senses he’s the only one who's surprised. Hyunjin seems to have already suspected it; he’s just waiting to hear what it is. Jeongin is harder to read; he hasn’t said anything yet, but he looks a bit upset that they didn’t trust him. Seungmin just straight up looks mad, though it is understandable considering how much he’s done for 3racha.

Not that 3racha ever knew what was going on either, no, Changbin and Jisung had simply played their part in investigating the Bureau. Speaking of Changbin, he isn’t looking at Chan or Felix, but at Minho instead. Minho, who is currently experiencing some sort of pain that Jisung doesn’t understand and can’t help with.

He doesn’t think the older knew about the Chan and Felix thing either, but his eyes are closed, so he can’t say for sure. Then again, he could just be projecting so he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t noticed it sooner.

“Before Chan hyung and I transferred here, we were investigating the Australian district’s science department,” Felix begins. “As a lead strategist, it was my job to make sure that the scientists were following protocol and to develop a plan that would accelerate the preexisting timeline. They never told me what the projects were, only that I was to create an initiative that would speed things up.

“At first, it wasn’t so bad. But a few months in, a lead scientist had left their data out after hours, when I was supposed to be reviewing their efficiency. It didn’t seem off ‘cause it was just a screen with numbers, but they were all vitals. Folders and folders of vitals. That’s when I decided to visit the lab; because I was supposed to be able to improvise, I had access to enter whenever I wanted.

“They weren’t trying to find a way to create an immunity to the pollution like I’d been told they were, and they weren’t trying to eliminate the use of implants altogether by surgically repairing the damage. They were experimenting on people to enhance their senses.”

Felix exhales slowly and Chan picks up where he left off. “Felix came to CB97 searching for someone to download the security footage to bring to the authorities. But I found out that even the Bureau was a part of this mess, and that they were the ones funding and facilitating the project. I ended up approaching Felix with a hard drive of the evidence and told him that the Bureau’s next target was here.”

Jisung shifts slightly so that he’s leaning back against Minho’s knee. “Wait, but you said Felix didn’t know you were CB97.”

Chan shakes his head, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “That’s what I thought, but he’s our Felix—he’d figured it out months before he even approached me. He just never brought it up because of the security issues.”

A particularly strong gust of wind rams into the hovercraft, dust and android detritus scratching the sides with noises that have both Jeongin and Seungmin grimacing and Minho wincing. The ship continues to slightly rock back and forth under their feet as Chan continues.

“We filed our requests to transfer on the basis of the origin ordinance, and they were approved, but they wouldn’t let us transfer together,” Chan explains. “I arrived seven months before Felix did, and that’s when I met Jisung and Changbin and you guys already know the whole thing with 3racha. I couldn’t find anything on experimentation without a medic or a bureaucrat, so my end of the research was stalled a bit.”

“Ah, so you just needed us as a part of your plan?” Hyunjin’s voice is colder than Jisung has ever heard it; colder than when they used to fight with each other at the academy or before races.

Thinking back, Jisung still can’t believe Hwang Hyunjin, the prince of the academy, had been one of the most notorious street racers, alongside the newcomer and all round wild card ace, Lee Minho.

Chan shakes his head. “We met when we were still in the academy, Hyunjin, it’s not like I knew you were going to be a medic when we first met.”

“You met me way after you knew I’d applied to be a bureaucrat though,” Minho points out. “Not that I’m implying anything, but I was just Felix’s roommate and bona fide Korean tutor. Not your friend though.”

Chan’s face falls. “You don’t really think that, do you?”

Minho shrugs, looking out the window at the wasteland around them. An android arm falls from the stack on their right, rolling over the amber sand like the tumbleweeds from the ancient faded films.

“Minho, Felix  _ adored  _ you. I just wanted to get to know the person that had made his transition so much easier when I wasn’t able to be there for him.”

He still doesn’t say anything, but he does turn back to the group, arm around Hyunjin’s shoulder.

“Where do Sentinels come into this?” Changbin asks, expression as unreadable as it was the last time Jisung checked, focused on Minho and not Chan.

Ah, those two are certainly a strange pair.

Minho and Changbin had never openly disliked each other or fought the way Hyunjin and Jisung had, but they had been weird together. Granted, Minho was weird in his own ways that the others couldn’t match or understand, but  _ Changbin and Minho _ was just a weird combination.

Hyunjin kept telling him they had too much in common, but Jisung never saw it and often started his own fair share of arguments over that, which neither of their hyungs had appreciated. He still doesn’t agree with it, although he can see the similarities. Like the way they both like to go to the gym at night and how they both are scary when focused.

Really, Minho might have more in common with Hyunjin, and those two are total opposites.

Although, they both did meet in the weirdest way possible. Who tries to steal a hovercraft and then decides to become rival hovercycle racers? 

“Sentinels,” Chan repeats, pulling Jisung from his thoughts. “As far as we know, they’re only a construct.”

“That’s a fancy way of saying you don’t know,” Seungmin mutters, pulling out a screen from the pilot’s seat compartment. “I could believe the Network would tell me more than that.”

“But it would all be inaccurate.” Felix raises his head. “Sentinels aren’t documented because they weren’t designed to be.”

Jeongin kicks his feet up on one of the other seats. “So they’re androids with personalities.”

Jisung thinks Changbin mutters something about scanners and personalities, but it makes no sense so he doesn’t question it. Changbin can be weird too. 

“No, they’re people,” Felix corrects. “It took us a while to figure it out, but the experimentation was an attempt to try and recreate Sentinels using current AI tech. ‘Course, they never managed, but that’s only because their research on the scientific side was only one aspect of it. There was a more creative side they wouldn’t have thought of, only because science doesn’t understand it yet.”

Jisung clears his throat, because he really doesn't understand if Felix is saying what he thinks he’s saying, and if he is, if he’s being entirely serious right now. “You’re saying they’re magic.”

“He’s saying they’re connected to another dimension that we haven’t understood,” Chan clarifies. “An eighth dimension.”

“What does that have to do with the Bureau’s newfound nosiness in the med department?” 

Hyunjin’s voice isn’t friendly, by any means, but it does sound a bit warmer, as if he’s coming to terms with the fact that two of his closest friends were hiding something this big from them. Jisung has to give him credit for processing things so fast; he’s still stuck on the part where Chan decided there was an undiscovered dimension that some people could supposedly tap into.

The ship rocks a little again, creaking slightly as it does. “They found similarities between patients with sensory overload and Sentinels; well, it’s a little more complicated than that, but basically, Sentinels have naturally heightened senses.”

“Like being able to differentiate every single one of our jackets by smell?” Minho’s question is pointedly specific and it has Hyunjin flushing and whining as he burrows his face in the older’s shoulder. Minho just pats his head, none too gently.

“More like being able to hear someone’s heartbeat without really thinking about it,” Chan says. “Although Hyunjin’s dedication to our perfumes is admirable, Sentinels can do far worse. They’re the Bureau’s best hope at a natural weapon to combat the android uprising they fear on the east ring.”

Jisung perks up at that. “Isn’t that a good thing though? We don’t have to worry about them trying to recreate the perfect android soldier anymore.”

Jeongin shakes his head. “Yeah, but hyung, they’re experimenting on people. Who knows what they’re doing to them?”

Felix might, but judging by his own pensive stare, Jisung isn’t too sure he does either. Chan looks just as lost in thought, staring unblinkingly at the space between Jeongin and Seungmin.

“We can talk about this further once we get out of here,” Chan says. “The air isn’t good for any of us. There’s an old bunker from the First Android Uprising that was one of the first strongholds Changbin and I secured when 3racha was starting out. I’m sure there are enough supplies to hold us out until we figure out what the next steps of our plan are.”

No one responds, even as Chan stands up awkwardly, each lost in their own thoughts.

“The most logical next step would be to find the Sentinels,” Felix counters. “I know you’ve held off on that, hyung, but if that’s what it is, then we could use all the expertise we can get.”

“Wait, I don’t get it,” Jisung interrupts. “Are you saying the Bureau has been experimenting on Minho hyung?”

Judging their wide eyed twin looks of horror, that was definitely not what the Australians had been thinking of.

“I didn’t even—That could be a possibility too,” Felix finishes quietly, glancing over at Minho who hasn’t said anything in a while. Chan doesn’t say anything either, pulling filtered masks out of the overhead compartment and passing them around. 

They pull their gear on in silence, each one contemplating a different part of the insane revelation they’d just learned about. Jisung trips over his boot slightly as he stands up, steadied by Minho’s arm on his elbow.

He isn’t sure why Minho makes the face he does, eyes crinkled like he’d scrunched his nose up under his mask, but then he watches them widen, like he realized something. He just tilts his head at Jisung when asked about it though, waving it off as nothing to be worried about.

The bunker fails to live up to its reputation as a stronghold from one of the most influential events in their life, and the numerous cobwebs that only serve to send shivers down his spine don’t help either. He’s pretty sure he’s almost knocked out every single one of his friends with his startled jumps. Jeongin looks just about ready to hold his arms in place if he so much as moves a finger, and normally he would complain, but even  _ Minho _ , who never so much as says he’s easily scared, looks fed up with his arbitrary fears.

Which are not arbitrary at all, thank you very much. Who knows what else could be there? It’s an abandoned bunker, from a time before he could even speak. That in itself is terrifying. Who are they to judge him for fearing the unknown? It’s meant to be feared—

Oh, the lights were on.

Okay, so maybe they may have been a bit justified in looking annoyed if he had his eyes closed while the lights were on, that’s valid.

The bunker’s screens still light up, although they’re nowhere as thin nor undetectable as the modern ones. These are easily as thick as the old desktop relics back at the academy hall.

Chan sets up the security footage of Hyunjin’s building on the main monitor. The sentients are prowling all over the place, the entire building has been evacuated using transmitters, as they had suspected, and there have been no casualties either. It’s clear without looking too deeply into it that this was a targeted attack.

Hyunjin looks a bit shaken up at this realization, while Felix seems to have accepted it. “Who were they targeting then?”

“Hyunjin’s a fairly prominent figure among our classmates,” Seungmin says. “I doubt that would be a good enough reason for someone to target him though.”

“I’m not even researching anything—oh,” he cuts himself off. “Chan hyung, can you rewind the top screen back seventeen seconds?”

“Why would they want the implants?” He mutters to himself, squinting at the screen. “I’m not sure if it’s of importance, but the 00’s have been collaborating with JYPCorp, although my main role was to interact with the patients and maintain their vitals. I’m only the control group, so why would they want my implants? Those are placebos.”

Minho sits down on the other side of the table, leaning over to pause a different screen. He zooms into Hyunjin’s placebo implants, clicking his tongue at something.

“What?”

He shakes his head, filling the screen with the single screen. “I swear, I saw these just the other day, but I can’t remember where—or why.”

Felix leans over, accidentally knocking over a wire on the side and Jisung takes a moment to appreciate their wireless reality. He yanks Chan over, almost knocking Hyunjin’s hip into the sharp corner of the desk in the process. “Sorry Hyunjinnie. Hyung, isn’t this what you had the blueprints for?”

This gets Jeongin and Seungmin’s attention too as they crowd around the desk wherever they can. Minho slips out of the way, leaning against the fence on the other side in a manner that could be perceived as nonchalant if it weren’t for how tightly he was gripping the metal bar to keep from thinking about the ten foot drop below him.

Hyunjin steps back, giving Jeongin and Seungmin enough space to analyze the implant in comparison to the blueprints Chan has pulled up. “These can’t be placebos,” Jeongin decides, highlighting a section of the implant with his point finger.

Seungmin enlarges the section. “If it were a placebo, it wouldn’t be as invasive, but these have the same depth capabilities as the normal sensory implants, if not deeper.”

Chan hums in agreement, looking around the room. Changbin, Jisung, and Minho are the most out of place, each one standing in a different point in the room with no technological engineering experience. “You’re saying they were experimenting with these, Hyunjin?”

“I mean, as far as I know, yeah? JYP wanted to see if we could enhance the current implants to be able to suit a broader range of patients, even those who suffer from deprivation naturally.”

“That could have everything to do with Sentinels,” Felix exclaims, turning around in a hurry to face Minho, but hitting his hip in the process. He winces, cursing at the table with a sickly sweet smile before leaning back on it, palms flat against the glass.

“See, Sentinels were just a myth back home, but one of my classmates swore they had the ability to mask their enhanced senses to blend in, and that they were the only ones capable of controlling the enhanced senses without an implant.”

Minho nods along, though Jisung can tell he’s made more of a connection than just that. As expected from their bureaucrat, he guesses, but it’s still frustrating to be the only one in the room not picking up what everyone else is putting down. One look at Changbin makes him feel a little better, though because even if he knows, his blank expression reveals nothing.

Jisung wishes he was gifted with a less expressive face sometimes. “Does that mean the implant works or what?” 

Jeongin nods, shifting slightly so he can see the screen too. “It does more than just work; it could permanently handicap Sentinels.”

Changbin finally speaks up, one hand on his hip and the other pointing at the screen. “But that means the Bureau already has Sentinels to experiment on.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment as that sinks in. 

“What if they volunteered for it?” Minho asks, edging away from the chasm he stood by. 

Chan sets the screen face down on the table and switches the security feed back to live. “What do you mean?”

“What if the Bureau promised to help them control that sensory overload? What if they treated it like a problem and offered the Sentinels a chance to be normal again?”

Changbin scoffs a little, raising his eyebrows. “That’s oddly specific.”

Felix is already shaking his head. “No, it makes perfect sense. No one here has even heard of Sentinels. It’s the perfect way to identify them and then use them for whatever they need to. But hyung, have you heard anything about it specifically?”

Minho shakes his head, taking the screen from the table and pulling something up. Jisung leans over his shoulder to see, but Minho switches the feed with Hyunjin and Felix’s security roll. 

“If the Bureau were to put out a notice about offering their services, no one would accept them. But if a well known company that’s racked up an insane success record in just a year were to partner with the best medics in the district…”

“You’re saying the Bureau used JYP for it,” Hyunjin finishes, letting out a low whistle. “That’s just the right amount of insane to be true, though.”

Felix nods. “I can’t believe I didn’t put it together sooner. The curfews, the new med department deal; Hyung are you sure you haven’t come into contact with anything last week?”

Minho scoffs. “I don’t even remember much from last week; I’m really not going to be much of a help there.”

Chan frowns, taking the screen back from him. “What do you mean you don’t remember anything from last week?”

“I mean, I said ‘much,’ but sure,” Minho muttered. “I thought it was just a lack of sleep when I ended up at Changbin’s, but now I’m not sure.”

Changbin glares at him for that. “You should have said something instead of just saying you were tired.”

Minho shrugs, but doesn’t deny it. Chan gives him one last glance before flipping a switch on the wall behind him. The strip at the top bathes the room in red light, illuminating three different rooms branching off their center room. 

The bunker is shaped like a silo, which is far rounder than Jisung had initially thought it to be. The room off the center looks round too, from what he can see, and also appears to be the biggest. The lighting also opens up the drop between the railing Minho had been leaning against and the back wall of the bunker; a ladder hangs off the side of the railing and from what Jisung can see, opens up to a kitchen or food storage facility.

Hyunjin winces loudly, gaze trained on the large chronometer built into the other side. “There’s no way they won’t notice if I’m missing.”

“Screw that,” Seungmin says, in an unexpected show of disinterest in meeting others’ expectations. “Hyunjin, they tried to kill you for something you knew nothing about. It’s not safe to go back there.”

“They’ll definitely need me there tomorrow,” Minho says. “I can come up with something that would have kept you busy.”

“Hyung, you’re not going back to the Bureau ever,” Changbin cuts in. “They might have been experimenting on you without you knowing it and you’re willing to go back?”

Jisung points at the rooms. “What if we all take today off and use the rooms to sleep? I know Minho hyung said he didn’t sleep well, but the rest of us have been up for a while too. Hyunjin would normally be waking up now and he’s still awake.”

It takes a while to convince the others to stay, but after Chan speaks with Hyunjin and Minho privately, they end up agreeing grimly. Jisung wonders what he said for them to look that morose. Probably something about endangering themselves if they were to go back.

“I’ll room with Felix, since we’re used to rooming together,” Hyunjin offers, but when he sees Felix look away, he presses his lips together.

Chan winces. “Actually, Hyunjin, I was thinking the three of us could room together so Felix and I could show you the med files we picked up. Maybe you would have some kind of insight on that?”

He doesn’t look upset anymore, just curious as he nods. “Sure, you guys can tell me more about the implants too.”

“We’ll meet you guys for the implants,” Seungmin says. “I’m sure Innie and I’ll notice something you won’t.”

“I’ll room with Minho hyung then?” Jisung asks, taking a step towards Minho. Oddly enough, Changbin is the one who takes a step between them. 

“I can room with Seungmin and Jeongin,” the older of the two says. “If you need anything, let me know.”

He looks at Minho when he says this, but leaves to his room first. Hyunjin glances between the two of them, lingering on Minho, but doesn’t say anything either. Felix seems to notice too, frowning when Changbin closes the room door.

Jisung offers Minho a bright smile which he barely returns, but he’ll take it. He’s probably just tired from everything that’s happened in the past six hours. The elder leads the way to the middle room, a pair of twin beds lined head to toe on the farthest wall from the entrance.

There’s a large screen on the other side of the wall, with shelves stocked with an old model of the 3d printers they typically use to make their meals. He remembers it being only for those who could afford them from his academy lessons, but they were probably the most logical for a bunker.

He’s about to ask Minho which bed he wants, only to find that the older has already curled up on the one furthest from the door. He’s fallen asleep on top of the sheets, so Jisung gently tugs them out from under him before tucking him in.

In comparison to his other friends, he really hasn’t known Minho for that long, but he does feel like he’s never connected with anyone on this level before. He knows that Minho feels the same, to an extent, but that they missed their chance with anything coming from those feelings

He sits down next to him and brushes Minho’s hair away from his eyes, hoping it takes away at least some of the pain. He wonders if that makes their feelings any less valid, for not lasting long enough for anything to come of it. Minho exhales lightly, and Jisung stands up, leaning over to interlace their fingers, gently squeezing before letting go. 

“I really hope you’ll be okay, hyung.”

  
  


After going to sleep in practically the morning, Jisung is surprised to wake up as late as he does, having slept a full eleven hours. It’s the most he’s ever gotten, what with AVA waking him up before he’s even gotten a solid eight.

Minho’s already awake, he guesses when he sees the empty bed, but he was nice enough to pull the panel behind him so he wouldn’t wake up. Jisung hopes he’s feeling a little better now.

He’s the last to wake up, but Minho isn’t in the screen room the first entered either; only Seungmin, Chan, and Jeongin sit there discussing the schematics of something on screen.

“Oh, Jisungie, you woke up pretty early?” Chan says, turning to smile at him. Early? He could’ve sworn he was the last person to wake up, but maybe not? Still, where’s Minho?

He shakes his head. “Is everyone else still asleep?”

Jeongin nods. “Yeah, we ended up rearranging rooms a little last night, so the others are probably still fairly tired.”

He blinks at the chronometer, the time 19:29:35 pulsing in cyan. “Where did everyone else end up?”

Chan nods. “Ah, I ended up in your room. Sorry, did I wake you up?”

Huh?

“Innie, Felix and I shared our room,” Seungmin says. “Changbin hyung and Minho hyung got the other room, and since Hyunjin wanted to stay close to hyung, he ended up in their room too.”

It’s the little things like this that make Jisung wonder if they really did miss their chance or if Minho just moved on, or if it’s been just him all along. If it’s just residual feelings from Minho not being comfortable with him or frustration with himself at not being able to help his best friend.

He’s probably just overthinking it, anyway. Hyunjin is one of the best medics in his department, and he probably just wanted to keep an eye on Minho to make sure, in any case.

Jisung sits down next to Jeongin. “How is Minho hyung doing anyway?”

Chan and Seungmin exchange a glance that he can’t quite figure out. “Hyunjin’s taking care of him,” Chan finally says, as if that isn’t ominous and worry inducing.

Jisung simply nods at that, unsure of what else to say. He taps his fingers against the desk, each nail clicking the glass surface at a different angle. He looks back up at the chronometer again. “When do you think the others are going to wake up?”

“If you need something to do, I’m pretty sure Felix hyung is trying to figure out how the 3d printers work so we can eat,” Jeongin says. “Although Jisung hyung, maybe that’s a bad idea for you to be in the kitchen.”

He jumps up and ruffles their youngest’s hair, sticking his tongue out at him very maturely before clambering down the ladder to join Felix. 

“Oh, Jisungie, you woke up?” He nods, taking a look at the clunky 3d printer in front of him. “Yeah, they sent me down here. How can I help?”

Felix points out the shelf to the left, lined with various packets and add ons. “You can pick what we’re eating, I guess. Some of the samples had expired, so I ended up setting those aside, but I think the others should be fine.”

Jisung leans over and selects a pack labeled cheesecake. He holds it up in front of his face, waiting for Felix to notice. When the younger does, he raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“You’re really going to make all of us eat  _ cheesecake  _ for our first meal in however many hours?”

He shrugs, fiddling with one of the dials on the 3d printer closest to him. “I’d eat cheesecake for my first and last meal ever.”

Felix laughs a little, taking the packet from him. “That’s fair, but that’s also just you, so pick something else too.”

He selects a packet of ramen from the shelf above them, reaching on his toes to grab it, ignoring Felix’s snickers at his struggles. 

Look, he’s not short, okay? That’s Changbin. And it’s not like Felix is that much taller than him either, maybe an inch or so. That’s really not much to be laughing about, considering he probably wouldn’t be able to reach the same shelf either.

He hands the ramen powder packet to Felix, grabbing the water filter from the shelf next to it. “How much water do you think we need?”

“I think you can just boil it in that pot and then we can add the flavor packets and everything,” Felix says. “We could probably just eyeball how we divide it based on how soupy everyone likes their noodles.”

Jisung nods, setting the pot over the induction stove top. “Minho hyung, Changbin hyung, and Hyunjinnie all like it super soupy.”

“We’re the ones that are in the middle,” Felix confirms, pouring the cheesecake packet into the printer. “Chan hyung, Seungminnie, and Innie are the weird ones who prefer it to be drier.”

It takes approximately sixteen minutes for the printer to spit out a decent sized cheesecake, although it’s nowhere near enough for eight people to split. Jisung offers to grab another packet, but Felix declines, deciding that brownies would be a better option, particularly for Minho, since they’re his favorite.

He rummages through the stack for a mint chocolate flavored packet while Jisung contemplates how he forgot his best friend’s favorite dessert in his cheesecake filled cravings.

It isn’t just that really. When he thinks about it, he and Minho haven’t been spending as much time together. He knows that Minho’s work in the Bureau is important, not only to the district, but insanely important to his own work as a part of 3racha, but he can’t help but feel like they’ve drifted apart in the past few weeks.

He feels like he’s forgetting something, but there’s no reason for him to be worrying about that, since he knows there isn’t anything he could have forgotten. He takes a knife from Felix and splits the cheesecake into eight pieces regardless, because he suddenly doesn’t mind sharing, even if it means he gets a little less.

Felix pulls the ramen together quickly enough, adding in 3d printed scallions, mushrooms, and the soup as soon as the noodles are finished. He sends Jisung to go wake Hyunjin, Changbin, and Minho up while he brings the noodles to Chan and the engineers.

He isn’t expecting the room to be too different from the one he’d picked early that morning, but this one seems to have been designed with a different purpose in mind. Where everything in his room had been straight corners and sharp edges, this room seems to almost flow, with pink bean-shaped seating arrangements and a large circular bed in the middle. 

There isn’t a wall of shelves either, just floating shelves scattered throughout. And while his room emitted an almost teal glow, a greenish blue not unlike the Buried District 3racha often occupies, this one is hued in shades of pink, from the furniture to the curtains, to the walls themselves, which almost  _ glow  _ in the same color, but not too brightly.

What he’s most surprised to find, is that Hyunjin isn’t even in the room. “You fool, you walked right past me.”

Ah. So Hyunjin was in the room. “Don’t wake them up,” he continued. “Seriously, Hannie, I know you get jealous, but the skinship seems to help, even if I’m not entirely sure why.”

And there’s the other thing he’s been avoiding. 

Curled up on the bed are Minho and Changbin, each respectively shirtless, although he hopes they’re wearing pants under the pink sheet Hyunjin appears to have pulled over them. Minho’s the little spoon for once; how did Jisung not know he liked to be the little spoon after all these years of cuddling together during their movie nights at the academy?

“Wha—how could that possibly be helping?” Jisung sputters. “They’re just cuddling; I could have done that too. I have abs too!”

He’s well aware of how borderline hysteric his voice sounds as he finishes, but he’s completely serious. He wants to help Minho, in whatever way he can, but it feels like the elder just doesn’t want his help.

“Do you want my logical analysis or do you want me to tell you something you don’t want to hear?”

“Is there an option that doesn’t make me feel bad?”

Hyunjin scoffs, kicking his leg up so it rests on his opposite knee as he leans back in the bean-chair. “That’s the one where I tell you what you want to hear and we get absolutely nowhere, just like last time. And the time before that. And the time before that.”

Jisung flaps his hands in the air, looking back to the two on the bed. “Okay, okay; so, I’m sensitive, we get it. You made your point; no need to rub it in. What’s the scientific diagnosis, doc?”

“Logical,” Hyunjin corrects. “I’m sure another scientist would have a different perspective and would honestly have a more accurate reason for why it helps. Not to mention that doctors would have to perform more medical tests before coming to a conclusion.”

“Are you going to explain it or are you going to go on about the differences between doctors and scientists? Doctors are scientists, you know.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes at this, standing up from the chair. Oddly enough, there’s no dent in the bean, despite the material looking like it would be easily impressionable. “The  _ logical  _ theory would be that when Chan hyung first administered the sensory deprivation serum, since Changbin hyung was with Minho hyung, he likely latched on Changbin hyung after that, causing his neurons to crave that contact whenever the serum was at its highest concentration, but also whenever it would start to wear off.”

“Why when it wears off?” He asks, finally tearing his eyes away from the bed and focusing instead on the bean chairs again. There’s just something about them that he can’t look away for too long. “Wouldn’t he reject the contact when it wears off because that means the overload is returning?”

Hyunjin looks surprised, almost as if he’s proud, but it quickly shifts into a smug smirk. “Ah, so you have been paying attention! No, it’s because it also causes the overload to latch onto that contact too, dimming everything else.”

He nods slowly at that, rolling his tongue over his teeth. “That’s… interesting.”

“It’s not as bad as what you were expecting to hear,” Hyunjin agrees. “But the fact that you expected something like that means you already know. Seriously, when are you guys going to talk about it?”

Jisung pouts at that, finally deciding to try out the bean chair for himself. “It’s not that we haven’t, it’s just that it’s awkward. It’s an unspoken thing; it’s not meant to be talked about.”

“Please don’t quote the  _ Guardians of the Galaxy  _ at me when I’m seriously trying to help.”

He sighs, biting his lip. “Sorry. I know it’s for closure and all that, but I just feel bad. Is it right to even talk about it like it was a thing if we never made it one?”

Hyunjin glances over at Minho and Changbin. “I mean, you said it, not me. Although, to be fair, I wouldn’t say that either of your feelings are invalidated by how long you acknowledged them or had them or whatever. They’re feelings, you’re not entirely in control of them.”

“Still.” Jisung pokes the chair curiously, watching the material spring back before he can even finish blinking. “Wouldn’t you feel guilty?”

“I told him he was the closest thing to my gay awakening after Park Jinyoung and he offered to let me kiss him,” Hyunjin points out. “Keep in mind this was after the race angst and everything. He’s not going to be mad at you for acknowledging something you both know already; he’s just giving you space because of how it went the first time around.”

Ah, yes. The first time around. An entire disaster Jisung would prefer to never even think about again, let alone relive. He can admit now that it was entirely his fault, that he misunderstood things completely, but he’s not brave enough to talk about it yet. 

Plus, there’s the whole matter of the residual feeling thing that he’s going through.

Not that that’s anything he really wants to think about either.

“Why’d you come in all of a sudden anyway?” Hyunjin asks curiously, steering the topic towards something a little less introspective.

He blinks before nodding. “Oh, right! Felix told me to get you guys for dinner. We made ramen and cheesecake, and he was still working on the brownies when I came here. If we shouldn’t wake them up, then I mean, I guess we could wait, but I’m not sure how well the noodles will hold up if we have to heat them again.”

“The 3d printed ones, right?” He nods. Hyunjin steps out of the doorway to check the chronometer, sighing when he returns.

“I guess we could wake them up,” he finally says, although he still seems reluctant. “It wouldn’t hurt to get some sustenance, after all that.”

It’s easier said than done. While Hyunjin has no qualms with waking their friends up regardless of their state of undress nor their rather intimate position, Jisung just feels awkward. And a bit guilty, but mostly awkward.

Not to mention how tired Minho had looked. He almost wants to let him sleep some more, to make up for all the pain he was inevitably in earlier, but he knows that even the 3d printed food could give him some nutrition and energy.

He pulls the sheet back before he can think twice and hopes he imagined Hyunjin’s amused laughter when he closes his eyes. “They’re wearing pants, Jisungie.”

Right. He knew that. He was just giving them privacy.

He didn’t know that Minho had a tattoo under his ribs though. The words  _ pulvis et umbra sumus, vivamus moriendum est.  _ He almost leans over to trace the letters, but jerks upright when he realizes what he’s doing. He reminds himself to ask the older about it later, maybe when he’s feeling better.

Jisung and Hyunjin are quick to realize that waking them up won’t be so easy. While Changbin’s normally a heavy sleeper to begin with, only waking up instantly when Minho yells at him, which isn’t even possible now that they’re both sleeping  _ together,  _ Minho’s typically a light sleeper and he isn’t even budging. 

Hyunjin decides to bodily separate them, swearing and yanking his hand away after doing so. “What the heck was that?”

Jisung stares. “Huh?”

“It was like static electricity or something and it was a purplish reddish color; you didn’t see it?”

He had not. Fortunately, their sleeping hyungs appear to be stirring at least. Changbin is the first, blinking up at them through squinted eyes. “How’s hyung?”

And of course those are the first words out of his mouth, while Jisung had just  _ assumed  _ Minho had been fine and woken up and everything was normal.

Hyunjin snorts. “He’s right next to you, hyung. You guys were all cuddled together, it was so cu—Ah!”

He squeaks when Changbin chucks his pillow at Hyunjin with scarily accurate aim for someone who just woke up, but that must just be the effects of going to the training center regularly, rather than just before a reconnaissance mission.

Although, Jisung concludes pettily, he has abs too, so Changbin’s just showing off. 

“Why’re you always so loud,” Minho grumbles, turning on his side so that he’s now facing Changbin, holding onto his arm and closing his eyes again. 

Changbin’s eyes practically bug out at this, staring up at Hyunjin, who just cackles unhelpfully. He’s giving the younger the death glare, which would normally quiet Hyunjin, but he’s still laughing away.

Feeling like he’s missing something, Jisung cuts in. “Felix and I made dinner. Minho hyung, it’ll probably help if you get some energy back.”

Minho hums into his pillow. “Mn. Thank you, Jisungie.” He opens one eye; Changbin freezes. “Why do you look like that?”

Hyunjin only laughs harder, hand somewhere near his mouth in an attempt to quieten it.

It’s an attempt Jisung won’t give him credit for. He’s so clearly failing. “Felix made mint choco brownies,” Hyunjin manages to get out, still breathing heavily from his laughing fit.

Changbin waits for Minho to not only release his arm, but also get up from the bed before he does. They pull on their shirts in silence, not even looking at each other after their cuddle session, though Jisung wants to classify Hyunjin’s odd smile as obnoxious and therefore not silent.

“Hyung, you don’t need the suppressant, right?” Hyunjin calls out, stopping by the doorway. They all turn to look at Minho, who shakes his head.

Jisung can’t help but notice that despite the long nap, he still looks exhausted. He hopes it’s just a result of the consistent lack of sleep and doesn’t have anything to do with the symptoms of sensory overload he’s been experiencing. He knows that if worse comes to worst, JYPCorp’s implants are entirely reliable, but he hopes it doesn’t come to that

For whatever reason, Minho’s always avoided implants, and though he’s never said anything about why, Jisung doesn’t mind respecting that. If he’s not comfortable with it, then he shouldn’t have to go through with it.

  
  


There’s a greater threat to their momentary peace that has nothing to do with the lack of cheesecake and everything to do with the Bureau.

“It’d be impossible to not notice it though,” Minho protests. “Seriously, unless they came up with it today, there aren’t nearly enough higher ups to propose and confirm a plan without us knowing.”

Seungmin nods like this is what he’s trying to get at. “Exactly, hyung.”

Minho sets down the cup of ramen. “There are more higher ups that we don’t know about.”

It’s not a question, but what a part of whatever he’s figured out, from the spark in his eyes. “That means that our positions are all lower than what we thought them to be; the Bureau is bigger than any of us thought.”

Chan nods vigorously. “Right. The Bureau isn’t an organization, it’s everywhere. I went through 3racha’s server—which, Changbin, I’ll need you to do a deep dive into later to see if I missed anything—and it’s insane how little our network covers. Even the Network pales in comparison to whatever reach the Bureau has.”

The ticking of the chronometer is all that manages to fill the silence after that reveal. The round common area looks a bit brighter, but it’s obviously artificial light, since any natural light would have given the room an orange hue instantaneously.

“Also hyung,” Hyunjin says when Jeongin and Jisung get up to clear away the cups. “I was wrong about the initial theory. I’m still not sure if you’re right, though.”

He doesn’t stay long enough to hear that end of the conversation, though he does want to. He’ll just ask Seungmin or Felix to fill him in later; it would probably be awkward to ask any of the others, considering it’s probably about them.

“Do you think you could throw their entire system with an encoded virus?” Jeongin asks suddenly, in the middle of feeding the dishwasher the cups. “Like the entire Bureau system?”

He frowns, considering it. “Probably not alone? It would probably require a deep dive, in which case Changbin hyung would be the best choice for it, even if I  _ am  _ good at it, but Chan hyung’s the best at covering it up, so I’d really only be creating the scatter pattern.”

“But if you did it from a remote location completely unrelated to 3racha’s servers?”

He hums in consideration, feeding his own cups in. “I mean, theoretically? They’d still be able to trace it back to wherever I was though, and the sentients would be there faster than I’d be able to get out. Why do you ask?”

Jeongin’s quick to shake his head and dismiss it. “No reason, just wondering. It seemed like something that could help.”

Oh, it could help all right. In fact, it was so specific Jisung felt like he was talking to Chan or Changbin about this, or even one of the virtual 3racha patrons. Jeongin had never shown any interest in hacking before, so why now?

He shakes his head. What is he thinking, suspecting his friend? Their maknae’s just trying to help them out, trying to figure out a solution,  _ just like the rest of them _ . He really shouldn’t be overthinking this.

He’s feeding his last cup into the dishwasher when an exclamation from Felix has him jumping, cup falling to the floor. He looks around hastily to make sure no one saw that, because it’s embarrassing, before shoving the cup in and joining the others.

“Hyung, how did you break that?” In Seungmin’s hands are two pieces of what appear to be the table, although Jisung could be wrong; the table wasn’t quite so shattered when he and Jeongin left to clean up.

He isn’t sure who broke it, but judging by how far Chan and Felix are from the table, he assumes it isn’t them. He doesn’t think it’s Hyunjin either, and Seungmin’s never called Felix or Hyunjin hyung anyway.

Which leaves Changbin and Minho.

Changbin’s gaze is settled on Minho and Minho’s on the shattered remains of the table, which means…

“I just set the screen down,” he mumbles, shifting under the weight of everyone’s attention. 

Jisung quickly jumps in when he notices him curling in on himself. “Maybe it’s just a bit fragile given how old it is?”

Chan is quick to shake his head. “We were literally testing how strong the table was after Felix stood on it to see what the material was. We even jumped on it and it held the weight.”

“It absorbs the kinetic energy,” Jeongin offers in explanation. “Kind of like that suit from that panther movie, though I can’t remember its name now.”

Jisung knows what he’s talking about.  _ Black Panther  _ was one of the movies they’d watched before meeting Minho, but after getting to know Felix. He’d found the suit interesting, but it was old tech anyway.

“Maybe all that testing weakened it?” Changbin suggests, although even Minho scoffs at that. It’s highly unlikely that such strong material designed the way it is would just weaken and snap under the weight of a  _ screen _ . Those things are mostly holograms, there’s no way they’re even heavy enough for the table to absorb any energy from.

“Okay, so what if it absorbed too much energy and this was its way of releasing it?” Jisung suggests, hoping that he’s somewhere on the right track. Minho looks too dejected—a stark contrast from his usually blank, almost irritated expression. Of course, he isn’t actually irritated, it just looks like that, but now he looks small.

He’s holding his hands at his sides, but he’s also being extra careful to not let them come into contact with anything either. Hyunjin nudges a piece of the table with his pristine boot. “There’s no way for it to release kinetic energy back into the air. The whole point of the design is that it’s released into another object that vibrates at the same frequency that it does.”

Right, the material comes from another dimension.

Wait, but so didn’t the sensory overload suppressants?

“Don’t the suppressants also vibrate at the same frequency?” He asks, but Felix is already shaking his head before he even finishes. 

He picks up a piece of the table, turning it over. The edges are oddly smooth, nowhere near sharp enough to even hurt someone if they were to fall on the remains. From what he remembers, these tables were typically used as last resort weapons known for their piercing abilities, but he could be wrong. He’s never seen one before, after all. This is his first.

“No, the breakage is rounded, which is the way it’s supposed to be,” Felix explains. Okay, so his second theory was wrong. “The suppressant and the table’s material fall into different dimensions, outside of this one, so they’re vibrating at different frequencies from not just us, but each other.”

“Maybe it’s a combination of the two?” Chan offers, taking the piece from Felix. “I’ll admit, I’m not too sure how the suppressants work, only that they were for what Minho was experiencing, but that could make sense, right?”

Felix shakes his head. “No, they’re essentially vibrating within the bloodstream to overwhelm the senses to the point where the person taking them can’t really feel anything. It’s not really a long term solution, which is why we need to figure out what’s going on soon.”

Minho scoffs, making an aborted gesture after going to cross his arms. “The person taking them happens to be right here, thank you very much.” He rolls his eyes before leaving the room.

Felix purses his lips together sheepishly. “Sorry,” he murmurs as he watches him leave. Jisung makes a move to follow him, but notices Hyunjin and Changbin mouthing something at each other.

_ Go,  _ Hyunjin seems to be saying, but Changbin’s shaking his head.

_ You should go,  _ he responds.

Hyunjin shakes his head, pointing in Minho’s direction and back at Changbin. Noticing the drama between the two of them, Chan clears his throat.

“I mean, I can go?” Hyunjin shakes his head.

“No, Changbin hyung was just leaving, weren’t you?”

Changbin gives Hyunjin one last meaningful look before he does leave, following Minho back to their room. He closes the door behind him though, so they don’t know what’ll come next.

“What was that all about?” Seungmin asks, voice level and as steady as ever. “I mean, I understand where Felix was coming from, but it might have been a little blunt, even for Minho hyung.”

Ah, Seungmin. Sweet, blissfully innocent Seungmin. Always thinking rationally, but this was hardly a rational situation and Hyunjin tells him as much. 

“There’s one other possibility for what it could be, isn’t there.” It isn’t a question, and for the first time since the hovercycle incident, Jisung thinks Hwang Hyunjin is intimidating.

It could also be because he’s glaring and taller and prettier than the rest of them, but Hyunjin’s just a giant in comparison to them so that is irrelevant.

Felix looks away, gaze falling on the chronometer. 22:35:07, the cyan numbering reads. “It’s the first thing I thought of when Chan hyung told me what happened.”

That’s when it clicks. “That’s why you were so worried,” Jisung says.

Felix nods, giving him a half smile. “Not like you weren’t just as worried without the same idea I had, but yeah. That’s why I was so worried. But I mean, don’t get it wrong, I care about Minho hyung a lot and regardless of what I thought it to be, I would still be really worried for him. He’s practically my family.”

Chan looks away at this, understandably. On one hand, it probably hurts to know that the same person who wanted him to relocate didn’t think of him as his closest confidante. On the other hand, it did feel good to know where Felix stood on his feelings for Minho. Jisung always found their relationship to be ambiguously platonic, barring the biting incident, whatever that had been.

On a third hand though, and let’s pretend he has three hands for the sake of continuity, they never really talk about their feelings like that. For Felix to blatantly claim something like that in the open, without assuming that it goes without having to be said, it’s serious.

“‘Lix, don’t worry,” Chan says, offering him a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. “No one’s saying you don’t care about Minho hyung. They just want to know what you thought it to be.”

His wording fails to appease Hyunjin. “Well, if Chan hyung knows too, then it’s obvious isn’t it?”

It really isn’t. Not to Jisung at least, but both Seungmin and Jeongin are staring at them expectantly, so maybe it really isn’t. There’s plenty that stays between Chan and Felix, and always has. It’s just another thing they never openly acknowledge, because they all know how Chan feels about Felix.

Chan shakes his head. “I don’t know, and frankly, neither does Felix. He was just speculating about it.”

“It’s not a speculation if it’s the first thing you think of.”

Another valid point from Hyunjin. It’s times like this, when he’s relentless in his pursuit, aggressive and level headed that Jisung can see the same Science Technological Academy for Youth’s prince that scared everyone in their year.

It does make Jisung think too, even if he still hasn’t thought of what Hyunin and inevitably Felix and Chan have thought of. 

There’s a loud noise from the room Changbin and Minho went into. “We’re okay!” He can hear Changbin’s voice filter through the door, although it does sound a bit strained. He wonders what that was all about, but the others are less easily distracted.

Well, until Hyunjin turns to Seungmin and chooses chaos for the nth time that day. “Seungminnie, you’re the smartest here—”

Sengmin winces. “Well, technically that’s Minho hyung.”

“—you’ve figured it out too, right?”

Seungmine hasn’t. Unless he’s suddenly become a great liar—and he may be insanely brilliant, but he’s also their worst liar—he looks just as lost as Jisung feels. 

“Jinnie, to be completely honest—”

Hyunjin cuts him off, running a hand through his black hair. It’s gotten even longer now, probably around the length it had been when he was racing, and easily long enough to tie up. “Innie, tell me you did.”

Jeongin’s eyes widen—he looks caught. “It’s not that I didn’t, but Hyunjin hyung, it doesn’t make sense.”

Jisung frowns. Does that mean that he and Seungmin are the only ones who don’t know? Oh, but Chan had just said Felix had talked to him about his theories, so maybe…

“Hyunjin, calm down,” their eldest says, raising a placating hand. “It’s not a bad thing.”

That does nothing for the worsening situation. “Oh, so it’s not just a theory anymore, huh? When were you going to tell us? When were you going to tell  _ him _ ? I know it’s not a bad thing, you really don’t have to act like we weren’t listening last night, hyung.”

Felix shakes his head. “It is still a theory. We have no way to confirm it, and anything we try could make it worse, so we have to be careful.”

Jisung’s completely lost, but it looks like Hyunjin’s decided to fight them all until someone says it explicitly, which personally, he doesn’t mind seeing, because it would clarify things for him too.

“Lee Felix, I swear,” Hyunjin huffs. “You’re all acting like telling him will make things worse when you know it’ll only help him. Stop acting prejudiced for one second and see that this is your friend!”

Chan’s gaze hardens. “Don’t overstep, Hyunjin.”

Jisung’s still lost, but Hyunjin looks about two seconds away from blowing up and Chan’s clearly sensed it, given how protective he’s being over Felix, who hasn’t even realized it. “What the heck are you guys talking about?”

He sighs when Seungmin finally speaks. He really doesn’t want to have to get in the middle of whatever’s going on there, because he knows it’ll just come back to get him. 

Felix sighs, standing up. “Hyunjin seems to think—”

“No, this is something I know,” Hyunjin cuts him off again. Chan gives him a sharp look.

“At least let him finish.” Hyunjin scoffs, throwing his arms up in the air, but he still listens. Jisung shares a look with Seungmin, who side eyes the situation and shrugs.

“He seems to think that one of my theory’s might be true.”

This doesn’t satisfy Hyunjin, nor clear things up. Even Chan appears to be at a loss for words.

“Fine, you want me to say it?” Hyunjin asks, but it’s rhetorical at best. “Fine, I’ll say it.” He scoffs once more for good measure.

“He’s a Sentinel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to lee know, but also stays:
> 
> i started listening to stray kids's music around the time when side effects came out, and i instantly fell in love with what's probably the most polarizing song in the fandom. from the lyrics to the instrumental itself, there was a raw quality to it that i could relate to. i didn't know much (read: anything) about kpop at the time, so i just clicked follow on spotify and listened to their music whenever it was recommended. (except side effects. queen was on loop for a month straight)
> 
> i really started listening to them after levanter came out. everything in my life had really gone downhill at that point, and i was in a pretty dark place. i don't want to say that's when i started stanning them, because a word from twitter really can't convey why stray kids mean so much to me, so i'll say that's when i really started to follow them. i binged all their content, all their music videos, every single song, and somewhere between their visuals and the meaningful lyrics and the insane production, i realized that i couldn't live without them.
> 
> lee minho, our 4th gen dance king and dancing gem, lee know particularly stood out to me (with the exception of chan and felix during side effects because i couldn't tell them apart but that's just me being stupid so) because of the reputation he for having a weird personality. obviously, it's not a bad thing, he's just unique and the definition of 4d, but that really resonated with me, because we share a lot of similarities and it was so nice to finally see someone like me that i could relate to. obviously, we're not the same; he's far more extroverted and i'm 100% an introvert. but his tsundere personality and the way he cares for the members; i really felt seen.
> 
> not to mention his incredible dancing and performance skills (@jyp give him a dance break !!) and his phenomenal voice. when i say i fell in love with his voice, that's an understatement. it's easily one of the prettiest voices i've ever heard; it's such a soft cream color, and it's so soothing to listen to, but then he switches it up to do this aggressive thing in back door and booster and i love that too? he's insane for that.
> 
> i just want to take a moment to thank him for being who he is, and for finding me at the right time, because i seriously don't know what would have happened if i hadn't found stray kids, if i hadn't found minho. so thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of stray kids, but especially for minho, because we really don't deserve them.
> 
> happy birthday to our dancing gem lee minho! i hope you had an amazing day and i hope you know that i, and all, stays will always be here for you! we know you're going to take world there by storm, and we're all for it. 
> 
> [visuals](https://fallindeepthefic.carrd.co/)


	3. [genesis]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anticlimactically, nothing happens.
> 
> Well, until something does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the promised *bonus* update because it's my birthday!! honestly, it's been a terrible year for a wide variety of reasons, but stray kids really has been there when no one else has. also, i have to thank them for the insane inspiration; they really said be more productive so my brain said 8000 words a day, huh?
> 
> it's a little longer than usual, so i hope that's okay, but do let me know if y'all prefer longer chapters or not, as well as what your thoughts are on the story so far!

When Minho first meets Felix, he knows the younger boy is nothing short of lost. He doesn’t know the language, he doesn’t know where he is, and he doesn’t know how to get where he is supposed to be going. He easily takes him under his wing and teaches him whatever he knows, if only to help Felix get by. 

It helps that Minho’s a bureaucrat hopeful and offering to help a new transfer looks good on his application. But it isn’t really why he does it in the first place anyway.

He doesn’t expect him to pick _everything_ up. Even the little things he’s never said but simply done without thinking twice.  
  


“Hyung?” Changbin’s voice is more hesitant than he’s ever heard it. They’ve never been hesitant with each other, always saying whatever needs to be said first and then apologizing later, if necessary.

“Yeah,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, shoving his bangs back from his face. The air is cool against his forehead. Changbin closes the panel behind him, staring straight at him.

“Felix didn’t—I mean, I’m sure he’s sorry about how that came out,” he offers, head tilted slightly apologetically. It’s not something he should be apologizing for anyway, whether on Felix’s behalf or not. Minho smiles mirthlessly, stretching his fingers outward and back again as he flexes his hands, taking care to avoid touching anything.

“He said what he meant to say, Binnie.” It’s softer than he means for it to come out, almost defeated. He stands by his words though; he isn’t mad at Felix. He can’t be, not when he would have done the same thing if he’d been in his place.

The pink glow of the walls seems to linger around Changbin too, outlining his frame in the same rosy color. Changbin nods once before frowning. “Why’re you holding your hands like that?”

He offers a sheepishly smile. “Ah, I really didn’t want to break anything, you know?”

Changbin looks at him with pity as he sighs and shakes his head. This is exactly why he didn’t want to say anything. He doesn’t want his pity, he just wants all of this to go back to normal.

He doesn’t even realize that his eyes are stinging until he reaches up to rub them. Changbin is faster, pushing his wrist down with one hand and wiping his eyes with the other. Minho just closes his eyes and turns away. He really doesn’t understand why he’s getting emotional _now_ ; the pain was supposed to have peaked last night, and Hyunjin had given him a booster dose that had yet to wear off. What could possibly be screwing with his emotions now?

“Hyung…”

He shakes his head, blindly reaching out for the bed so that he can sit down, momentarily forgetting his own worries about breaking whatever he touches. He feels weird, like his emotions are twisting inside out and then back again. He hates how Changbin's looking at him, but he isn't sure that he'll be able to say anything to change his mind.

"Ah, it's a bit weird, isn't it?" He sighs, sniffling a bit. "Ah, really, I don't know why I'm like this all of a sudden."

Changbin might not be able to understand what he means, but for all their teasing, he knows they both care deeply for each other. They've always had a lot in common, too much, if you ask Hyunjin. He'll understand.

"Hyung, do you at least want to sit down?" Changbin gestures to the pink bed. "You look tired."

He giggles at that. "Bin-ah, that's what happens when you haven't been sleeping well. Promise hyung you'll get more sleep every night."

Changbin squints at the sudden change in mood, but it's not like Minho understands it either. He went from being two seconds away from crying to easily excited in the next minute. He wonders if this is a side effect from the booster dose. 

"I could carry you?" 

Minho shakes his head. "You saw what happened to the table."

Changbin rolls his eyes. "Didn't your senses latch on to me or something?"

They did. At least, _according to Hyunjin_ , they did. But that doesn't mean whatever is happening now won't lash out. He misses Changbin moving closer though, until his legs are halfway in the air with an arm supporting them behind his knees, his arms flailing and touching a bean chair in the process. The chair disintegrates, as his hands settle above his head.

"Hyung, you're really not making this easier for me," Changbin grunts, straining to hold his weight. "Look, I touched your legs and it was fine, so just put your hands down."

"That chair just disintegrated!"

The younger attempts to shrug. "It was old. It was ugly. It looked like a bean. It had it coming."

It did _not_ , but Minho doesn't say that. He still hesitates to put his arms down. He might tease Changbin all he wants normally, but he’s never meant for any of it to be ill intended. He certainly has no intentions of accidentally disintegrating his friend either.

“Minho hyung, put your hands down so I don’t drop you,” Changbin grits out, shifting so he can carry him better. Minho lowers them slowly, draping his forearms over his shoulders so that his hands still aren’t touching Changbin, just in case. It seems to be good enough for the younger, for he’s lowering Minho the next second.

He isn’t sure why he does it, or if it’s even his fault it happens, but the next thing he knows, he’s got his hands holding the opposite elbows, locking Changbin in place and pulling the younger on top of him as they land on the bed. He giggles as they bounce a little from the momentum, taking in the younger’s wide eyed surprise, keeping his hands away from him.

“Hyuuuung.” Contrary to how he may act with their other friends, he rarely acts cute with Minho, rarely whining or pouting, but when he does, it’s a natural reaction like this. Minho giggles again, beaming up at him. He can’t explain why, but he feels almost instantly energized, unlike how he’d felt when Jisung and Hyunjin had woken them up to eat.

He sighs, closing his eyes at the weight of Changbin’s head on his chest, even if his chin is a bit sharp. Under his back, the bed feels so relaxing, not so soft that he sinks into it, but firm enough to actually support his aching muscles, Changbin’s weight on top of him grounding him in the moment. “Hyung.” 

Ah, so he’s chosen to put his natural weapon to use.

Another poke from his chin. “Hyung.”

He blinks; Changbin is much closer than he expected. “What?”

“I didn’t disintegrate.”

His eyes shoot open. “Huh?”

Changbin sits up slightly, sliding down his torso so that he’s outside the ring of Minho’s arms before running his fingers over his hands. Minho holds his breath and watches in horror, waiting to see Changbin fall apart the way he did the table, and the bean chair he’d just kicked over. 

When his fingers remain intact, Minho bolts upright, knocking Changbin into his lap. He grabs the younger's hands almost reverently, a ghost of the contact he really craves. His touch is cooling, a soothing balm against the tingling under his skin and he can’t help but crave more.

His hands remain intact. He moves his fingers upward, holding his wrist and drawing patterns over his forearms before moving further up his arm, sliding his hand under the sleeve of his t-shirt to finish tracing the words lining the inside of his bicep. He lets go of his arms to pat his neck, ultimately resting his hands so that he’s cupping Changbin’s face.

When Minho looks up, Changbin is staring at him with wide eyes, a harsh exhale, and pink cheeks, blinking frantically. He wants to lean forward, wants to take his breath away. He settles for staring back, watching his pupils dilate in front of as he’s unable to look away.

It’s okay though. Minho doesn’t think he could look away either. He brushes the pad of his thumb over Changbin’s cheek before tapping the underside of his chin without breaking eye contact. “Seriously, are you sharpening this or something?”

Changbin huffs out a laugh, breaking their eye contact as he looks down shyly, staring at where Minho’s intertwined their hands. Minho stares at the back of Changbin’s head, smiling softly. He leans over to press his lips to the top of his head, lightly enough that the younger won’t notice.

He pulls Changbin with him so they can lie down again, despite his groan. “Hmm, Binnie, let’s sleep.”

“Hyung, what about the chair?”

Minho can practically sense that he’s going to protest, so he manhandles Changbin into a position where he’s holding him from behind. “Seriously, just sleep. Maybe it’ll all make sense in the morning.”

Changbin sighs, relaxing in his hold. “Fine, but when you wake up, we’re talking.”

He hums in agreement, pulling the sheet over himself and the younger.

* * *

It doesn’t make sense in the morning. 

Well, maybe it would, but he doesn’t end up making it through the night. Around 2am, despite how deeply fatigued he is, he wakes up sweating, the sheets stabbing him like needles. He tries to get off the bed to limit his contact with anything else, but the sheets burn to the point where he has to check and make sure his skin is still intact. 

He ends up collapsing on the floor, but the rubbery cork material doesn’t feel any better. He stands weakly, feet stinging where they’re still touching the floor. 

Changbin is still asleep, and he wants it to stay that way; he doesn’t want to bother the younger for every minor inconvenience. Hyunjin, who must have come in the room later, is also still asleep, curled on the largest bean chair of them all, one that’s likely nearly the size of the bed. Minho’s almost absolutely sure that the suppressants have worn off, but it’s still hours sooner than Hyunijn had predicted, meaning his body is growing to resist it. 

At this point, his feet have gone numb, and his ears are ringing. He can’t really hear much other than the deafening thud of the chronometer, no longer dulled to a faint ticking. The chronometer plods on, trodding all over his ears. 

Everything tingles, and the sensation overwhelms him. This is nothing like last night, when he hadn’t been able to sleep and Hyunjin had gotten Changbin to help for the third round of suppressants and his dose of physical contact.

He opens his mouth to scream, hand scrabbling to cover it so he doesn’t wake everyone up, but before he can let it out, everything dulls. The dark pink glow around him dissipates, leaving him standing in a steel abyss.

The walls grow closer and he’s never been claustrophobic, but suddenly he can’t breathe. His hand nudges something softer; a soothing breeze tinged in lavender. He pushes his hand further into that coolness, feeling the coolness surround him further and further.

It’s almost addictive, the rush of oxytocin blurring the edges of the pain, softening them further and further until the pain is nothing more than a weakening pulse.

“Hyung, what’re you…” The voice trails off, yanking Minho sharply back into reality. The pink haze descends on him once more, and the tingling returns. He’s still on the bed, for whatever reason, even though he distinctly remembers scrambling off it in a panic when the tingling sharpened into stabbing needles of pain.

The sound of his heartbeat is overwhelmingly loud, but also unmistakably echoing three times with each beat, even if the echoes aren’t overlapping properly.

“Minho hyung, breathe.” The voice roars in his ears and he reaches up to cover them, ignoring the liquid that dots his palm as he presses his hands harder against his head. The stabbing scratch of the bed returns, and he moves to get off when he finds himself being tugged onto something else. 

The cool breeze from the abyss returns and he shivers, falling forward into the sensation. The breeze rubs over his arms, up and down and then back up again. It settles under his legs, against his chest, pooling around his waist too. He sighs, arching into the sensation, only for it to dim.

There’s a sharp pinch on the inside of his left arm, a sting he’s grown to recognize.

His vision clears and he finds himself staring back into a pair of achingly familiar eyes he’s grown quite acquainted with in the past two days. His eyes are pained as he looks up at Minho, bare arms settling loosely over his thighs. “Better?”

Minho blinks down at him. “What happened?”

“The dose wore off,” Hyunjin’s voice informs them from where he’s standing by their side, although he’s stiff and his hand is still clenched around the needle. “Hyung, your heart rate was insane, are you feeling any kind of fatigue? Pain? I mean, outside from whatever pain you’ve been feeling this entire time, which, by the way, it’s horrible that I even have to clarify that. And your ears started bleeding again so we made sure to get your shirt off so it wouldn’t get all over. We used Changbin’s shirt to wash out, clean your ears and everything, especially since you were so responsive to the physical contact. You practically shoved your hand up his shirt.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, interrupting Hyunjin’s rambling. He’s used to accepting small forms of skinship from others; Hyunjin loves to cuddle after stressful days and often called Minho over to do so, Felix is like a cat in the way he always rests his head in Minho’s lap and waits for his hair to patted, Jisung loves hugs and cuddling while watching movies, and Changbin usually held his hand if either of them were nervous. Seungmin, Chan, and Jeongin weren’t averse to skinship, but they, like Minho, didn’t typically initiate it on their own.

To practically, in his eyes, grope Changbin in his pain induced haze felt wrong, to say the least, but his apology doesn’t go over well. Hyunjin just stares at him, while Changbin’s grip on his waist tightens.

“What are you apologizing for?” He’s never heard Changbin like this, at least, not in any way that’s directed at him. He’s aggressive, voice low and each word backed by a kind of fire saved for his alias SpearB.

Minho looks down, eyes lingering on the coordinates inked in the younger’s wrist, identical in everything but color to the coordinates adorning his own. He wants to apologize again, but it’s clear that’s not what either of them want to hear.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he murmurs to Changbin, raising his head to meet Hyunjin’s eyes. “Either of you.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “If it’s about the shirtless thing, he offered. If it’s about waking us up, Hyung, you’re seriously the worst. I’ve had patients wake me up for far far less than that before. We’re here to help you, so just let us, okay?” 

He sets the needle down, drawing attention to the three empty vials next to him. Changbin exchanges a look with the younger, one Minho doesn’t miss, but elects to ignore.

“Hyung, there’s something you need to know.” Hyunjin again, but this time he’s quieter, voice subdued. “After you left—and we, I, sent Changbin hyung with you—we figured out what’s happening to you, with the sensory overload and everything.”

Hyunjin sits down hesitantly on the edge of their bed. Minho turns in Changbin’s lap so that he’s leaning his back against his chest, head against his shoulder. “It’s—it’s a little hard to explain, and honestly Felix and Chan hyung understand it better, but it’s not like they really know either… Hyung, you’re a Sentinel.”

Changbin tenses against his back. Minho closes his eyes slowly. “I know.”

“And I mean, I know it’s hard to believe, considering we know next to nothing about them but wait—you know?”

The pink shadow that runs across Hyunjin’s cheeks wavers. “You remember what I did before moving here, right?”

Changbin hooks his chin over his shoulder, a comforting weight pressing against his collarbone. “You mean when you used to do backup for BTS, as an ARMY?”

Minho nods. “Yeah. That. Sentinels weren’t a myth for them, they were normalized. We were working on developing a test that would allow us to identify Sentinels from a distance, but they disbanded before we ever pulled it off.”

Hyunjin gapes at him, leaning forward to sit more comfortably on the pink mattress. “They disbanded?”

“Kind of,” Minho agrees. “The Bureau caught onto them and they didn’t want their work to be lost, so they initiated an ARMY dispersal and disbanded before the Bureau caught up. Haven’t heard from them ever since.”

Changbin nudges him a little from behind, hair tickling his ear. “Then, hyung, didn’t you already know you were a Sentinel?”

“No, I wasn’t supposed to be. Technically, it was supposed to be basically impossible to manifest as a Sentinel without knowing the Guide, but the resident Sentinel said there was only one way for it to be possible.”

Hyunjin flops over to rest his head in Minho’s lap, staring up at him upside down. The sheet gets pushed further away from them, sliding off his lap. Instinctively, he shivers. Changbin pulls him closer, the warmth from their bare skin pushing the chill away. “BTS had a resident _Sentinel_?”

“Wait, how is it possible?”

Minho frowns. “It’s not that easy to explain, but every Sentinel has a Guide. It’s an instinctive thing; usually once a Sentinel manifests, their Guide feels a pull to them. The Guide serves as an anchor, almost to hold the person in place and help them hone in on their enhanced senses. I’m assuming your experiments were to eliminate the necessity for Guides altogether, not to eradicate Sentinels.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, given what you’ve told us,” Hyunjin admits, patting the mattress. “But that’s the normal version, what’s the one that happened to you?”

Changbin pokes Hyunjin’s shoulder. “You said resident Sentinel. Does that mean there was a Guide in BTS too?”

“V was the strongest Sentinel we’d heard of,” Minho nods. “JK was his guide, and they worked perfectly together. They’d known each other for years before though, so it was only natural that their preexisting chemistry would be amplified by the Sentinel-Guide bond. They’re relationship was a normal one though; V manifested and JK felt the pull.”

“Okay, but what’s the alternative?” Hyunjin presses, sitting up. Minho almost laughs at how absurd the situation is. Here they are, three friends sitting in a room with two of them shirtless and hugging, a third tossing and turning like a restless puppy.

“The Guide awakens first.”

Changbin shifts so that he’s leaning back on his hands, stretching his legs out and pulling Minho back with him. It only serves to make their position that much more intimate, and Minho thinks if his senses weren’t so chronically maxed out, he’d feel the heat in his cheeks. 

Hyunjin’s smirk makes think he might not be as maxed out as he thinks he is. “What does that mean?”

“If the Guide awakens first, it means they realize their potential before and essentially call the Sentinel into being. It’s only supposed to be for an ancient, stronger, race of Sentinels who held too much power in what we now know to be the eight dimension to awaken on their own.”

Changbin snorts, leaning forward to nose at his neck. “So, you’re an all powerful Sentinel being, huh?”

Minho frowns, repeating his words in his mind as he tilts his head to the side to give Changbin more space. “Theoretically?”

Hyunjin shakes his head, black locks falling over his eyes. “Minho hyung, it’s really a terrible moment to be humble. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I only just figured it out.” Minho pouts. “There’s supposed to be an awakening; everything before that was just pre-sensory overload and exhaustion.”

Hyunjin glances at the three bottles set on one of the bean chairs. “Was that what just happened?”

Minho shrugs. “I don’t know. We studied normal cases to try and help get them out of the eye of the Bureau, but most people assumed that the abnormal cases just didn’t exist anymore. I really have no idea how this works, V and JK were legends, and I definitely worked with them more personally than others, but I don’t even know who my Guide is.”

Something sparks in Hyunjin’s eyes. He leans forward and runs a hand through Minho’s sweat tipped hair, combing it this way and that. “Would your Guide know they had awoken first?”

“Not until the Sentinel manifested, I think. Even then, I’m pretty sure they’d have to meet in the eighth dimension before recognizing each other in this one too.”

Hyunjin nods like he expected something along those lines. “So they wouldn’t realize they’re a Guide. But would they be able to connect with their Sentinel?”

“Not exactly,” Minho says. He purses his lips, shifting a little, frowning when someone whimpers. Hyunjin cackles silently in front of him. Minho lifts his head to turn around and look at Changbin, but he’s stopped by Changbin wrapping his arms tightly around his torso. He doesn’t try to get up again—Changbin’s chest and neck are both warmer and more comforting now. “Like I said, I really don’t know. There has to be a preexisting connection between the Sentinel and Guide for it to even exist, but for something like this—”

“—it has to be even stronger,” Hyunjin finishes, eyes alight. “Which would mean you would have to know them fairly intimately; hyung, that narrows down your possible list quite a bit.”

It does. It also doesn’t, because Minho’s used to keeping people at a distance and can’t, without complete confidence, say that he considers anyone to be fairly intimate. In V and JK’s case, they had been close friends for five years before V manifested, and he had been the earliest at 19. Their bond had only heightened their attraction to one another. 

Granted, that attraction had been a slow build for two of the five years and had nothing to do with their manifestation other than accelerate the bond awakening, but Minho was barely older than that and didn’t know anyone who had been with him for so long.

Changbin taps his hipbone to get his attention. This time, he does turn slightly, meeting his gaze. “Hyung?”

“What?” Changbin swallows, gaze dipping down and back up again. Minho stares at him unabashedly, basking in the relief his touch brings. Changbin taps his hipbone again, but it seems to be a subconscious action rather than intentional.

Hyunjin clears his throat and Changbin glances back down once more before turning away, nudging Minho to do the same. “Wow, it’s really like I’m not even in the room,” he mutters.  
  


“Hyung, honestly, I could probably tell you who your Guide is right now.”

Changbin scoffs. Minho raises an eyebrow at Hyunjin. “Okay.”

“Changbin hyung, you really haven’t figured it out yet either?”

“If it’s so obvious, Hyunjinnie, spit it out,” Minho grits out. “Before I shove tissues in your mouth again.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen. “Hyung, it’s Jisungie.”

Changbin stiffens. “It’s not.”

Hyunjin frowns. “Wait, but didn’t you guys—”

“It’s not,” Minho repeats. “We didn’t, for the record. I don’t know where you and Chan hyung got that idea in your head, but we didn’t. And either way, that’s not a prerequisite to manifesting a bond.”

Hyunjin appears to still be processing the former part of his statement rather than the more important—and informational—latter half.

“Didn’t you mention V and Jk though?” Minho pokes Changbin’s side, half smirking when the younger squirms.  
  
“Aigoo, Changbinnie, so what if they were in love? They knew that before the bond, they knew that after the bond, and they only did something about it when a mission went slightly sideways. All it really did was accelerate the bond awakening. Your feelings are yours and don’t aren’t dependent or attached to the bond.”

Hyunjin blinks. “Do I get one more guess?” There’s something different in his eyes, less teasing and more focused, although he’s been looking straight at Changbin the entire time, like this has been for his benefit and not Minho’s, even if he isn’t sure why.

“No.” Minho sits up, Changbin’s hands sliding to the side. “It’s late; you guys should get some rest.” Changbin pulls him back instantly. “Seriously, figuring out who out of you is my Guide isn’t worth losing sleep over.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, eyes wide and hair flopping over it like the overgrown puppy it is. “But hyung, you’re the one who’s not getting enough sleep. We can’t keep increasing the doses, it’s only going to completely suppress your senses altogether.”

He knows. As he leans back on the pillow, hands accidentally touching it but the pillow remaining intact, he knows. The suppressants weren’t designed for long term use. There’s no cure to being a Guide-less Sentinel, with no cure for being a Sentinel in the first place. It’s one of the first things he learned as an ARMY. 

He rolls onto his stomach, turning his head so that he’s facing Changbin instead, pulling him close enough to bury his face in the pillow and still be able to see the younger. The mattress rises as Hyunjin gets up, but Minho reaches an arm out to hold his wrist, retracting it quickly just in case his newfound relief from instant disintegration by touch is temporary.

“The bed’s more comfortable.” Hyunjin only laughs, patting Minho’s head softly again, before placing a hand on Changbin’s shoulder to push him down. Changbin stares back at Minho, a soft expression dancing on the corners of his lips.

“It’s really not.” Hyunjin huffs a laugh under his breath. “Not like this, anyway.”

* * *

Changbin and Hyunjin are both still asleep when he wakes up, although it’s not too early in the morning either. He slips a pillow into Changbin’s hold, finding his touch to not be totally destructive for now. 

In the hazy pale pink glow, all his edges are blurred, even sharpening the harsh slant of his chin. He smiles softly, moving his bangs from his sleeping friend’s eyes.

There isn’t anyone else in the common area and he isn’t ready to test his abilities in the kitchen, so ventures upward to the navigation and communication room. There’s a large window at the top of the tower and he’d normally avoid it, but there’s something humbling about embracing his worst fear.

“Oh, hyung?” Felix’s voice is deeper and lower in the mornings, but he still manages to sound younger than all of them, even their maknae Jeongin. Chan always says it’s an eternal innocence unique to Felix, and Minho can’t bring himself to disagree. 

He hums, eyes still glued to the mounds of deserted android shells, each one in worse condition than the one before it. He hears the shuffling of feet, smiling slightly. 

They’ve always been like this, really. Even back when they were roommates at the academy. Both of them were too blunt for their own good when it came to voicing their displeasure and asserting themselves, even if Felix was naturally sweeter and Minho came off as icy. It only simmered over time turning into whatever this stand off is. 

“Spit it out, Lixie.” It’s firm, but not harsh, as the nickname indicates. 

More shuffling, then a deep sigh. “I’m sorry.”

He laughs lightly. “You’re not.” _You don’t have to be._

“What do you mean I’m not? I just told you I am. Hyung, I wasn’t trying to treat you like a problem to be solved.”

He was, and Minho doesn’t blame Felix for it in the slightest. His current condition is a hindrance, and a solution would only save them the trouble they’re currently going through.

“Lix-ah,” Minho sighs, turning around slightly to glance at his dongsaeng. Felix joins him, looking out at the wasteland beyond them, the eerie orange haze swirling with the amber dust. “I know you were worried, and I know you were trying to help.”

What he doesn’t say is that he isn’t mad, that he’s frustrated too. Not knowing who his Guide is nor how they awakened him is far worse than losing his senses.

“Hyunjin told you.” It’s not an accusation, more an observation. The older of the two nods slowly, pressing his palms flat against the windowsill to keep his distance from it. There’s only so much dauntless fear-facing he can do for one day.

“He did, but I already knew,” Minho says, sighing as a shattered android head rolls down a pile and into another as a particularly strong gust of wind knocks into it. He doesn’t need to remind Felix about his time as an ARMY, but there’s quite a bit of knowledge about Sentinels he’s sure either of the Australians could enlighten him with. As well as some he could share with them. “I had only just figured it out a little before he told me, though, if it makes you feel any better.”

Felix shakes his head, his blue bangs fluffy and untamed without the bandana. “It’s not that. It’s just scary, okay, hyung? The way Sentinels are treated… I know you hate talking about these kind of things, but—”

“I know how Sentinels are treated, Yongbok.”

Ah, Felix’s Korean name. There are only two people Felix allows to call him that: Minho and Chan. Minho, because he was the one to help him in learning Korean, and Chan, because he’s Chan. 

Felix shakes his head again vehemently, bangs flopping over his eyes. “No! Not—hyung, I mean, I didn’t know you knew stuff about Sentinels, but that’s not it. Minho hyung, I’m scared for you. You’ve worked for the Bureau, what if they figure it out?”

All he can hear is _I'm scared_ and he wonders if he’s failed. Felix has always been the brightest of them all, the most positive and radiant. Their sunshine in an endlessly grey world. He turns to see the younger, only to find him already looking at him, eyes round and glistening. Minho stares at him, eyes widening.

Felix ends up throwing himself forward, head buried in the crook of his neck and arms wrapped tight around his torso. “Minho hyung, you know I can’t lose you, right?”

He can feel him trembling and wants nothing more than to reassure him and tell him everything’s going to be fine, but he can’t. None of them know what comes next. He settles on reciprocating the sentiment, even if he wishes there was more he could say. “I can’t lose you either, Lixie.”

The meandering rubatosis sets in, complete with an echo, but instead of three like before, he can hear two. 

Three. Hyunjin, Changbin, Minho. Two. Felix, Minho.

He reminds himself to ask Chan about it later, when he gets the chance. It isn’t a pressing matter, and considering all his other symptoms, isn’t even a priority. 

For now, he just focuses on his little brother and prays to all the gods he doesn’t believe in that no harm comes to his sunshine.

Seungmin finds them there, and as Felix unentangles them and reaches up to wipe his eyes, glares at Minho. Felix squeezes Minho’s arm once before leaving, and takes Seungmin’s bravado with him.

See, it’s not that they don’t get along. Really. I mean, they kind of don’t, but it’s nowhere near as serious as the thing between Jisung and Hyunjin had been. They’re just _awkward_ around each other, one of them always making a fool of themselves in front of the other or saying the wrong thing at the wrong time.

The only difference is in their reactions; where Minho embraces his blunders gracefully, Seungmin is easily embarrassed, ever the social interaction perfectionist. They’re both perfectionists in other aspects though, but there’s really no overlap between their interests.

“Hyung.”

Minho sighs, biting back a smirk and settling for raising his eyebrow. “Seungminnie.”

Seungmin shakes his head. “Innie and Hannie found something they want all of us to see.”

And that’s the end of it. Minho leads Seungmin back to the common area, the younger boy lingering a moment longer to appraise their view before following him. 

The chronometer blinks up at them, lights bright but nowhere near as invasive as he remembers them being. He blinks back, wondering if this is a sign of the deprivation setting in permanently. 

Jisung is the first to notice, running up to throw his arms around Minho’s neck, ruffling the hair in the back of his head. It’s honestly a bit excessive, and despite how close they are, he’s never been this loudly affectionate. “Hyung, did you know you’re going to have some awesome powers soon?”

He groans, head tilting back as he shoves the younger’s arms from his shoulders, but not before patting them once to show that he’s not mad. He shouldn’t be surprised that this is what Jisung chooses to focus on, but he is a little frustrated that they’re all ignoring the most vital part of this—a Sentinel is initially next to nothing without a Guide. 

A Sentinel like Minho, one who was awakened entirely by a Guide, will naturally be more dependent on the Guide simply because of the strength of the eighth dimension’s call to him.

“The dimensions are blurring, aren’t they?” Jeongin asks, setting down the cup of coffee. It’s a watered down, lukewarm imitation of the iced version they all enjoy. “The eighth dimension falling into ours is what’s causing those flashes of overloads?”

It’s really not fair that he can summarize it so clinically, like this isn’t the very thing that’s kept Minho from sleeping, from existing normally, for so long now.

Chan nods slowly from his corner, foot resting on his opposite knee. “I think we should let you explain what you’re feeling rather than try to diagnose you. Minho?”

He sits on the back of the longer sofa, legs thrown over the seat. “One of you is my Guide.” He doesn’t really mean to say that, at least not at that moment, but it slips out, and really, it’s as good a place to start as any.

Hyunjin sputters from next to him. “Hey, then I could be right!”

“It’s not Jisung,” Minho clarifies, missing Jisung’s beseeching pout. “It’s not Seungmin either.”

Seungmin looks relieved, scoffing when Changbin points it out. Minho isn’t offended; if they’d been paired together the bond would have never awoken on it’s own. One of them would have likely tried to strangle the other with it in an attempt to get their attention.

“I don’t think it’s Jeongin,” he shares. “Felix, do you know anything about anormal Sentinel awakenings?”

“The bond is awoken the minute you meet your Guide,” Felix says. “That means you’re the youngest and most powerful Sentinel yet, hyung.”

Like being the first known anormal Sentinel wasn’t enough pressure on its own, he just had to go and outdo himself.

Changbin frowns, stealing Jeongin’s cup to take a sip only to spit it out, much to Jeongin’s chagrin. He wipes his mouth with the sleeve of one of Felix’s t-shirts, which the younger catches and makes a face at. “If you manifested that early, then how did it take so long to notice?”

“That means the bond was awoken and a connection was made,” Chan informs them. “The symptoms were the result of the bond taking too long to be _acknowledged_.”

“That narrows it down to Felix, Hyunjin, and Chan hyung,” Minho says. “I met Felix first, then Hyunjin at the ring, and then Chan hyung at the academy.”

“You don’t have to have talked to them for it to be a possible connection,” Jisung reads from the screen. “Sorry, meant to tell you guys. I pulled from the old ARMY database. That means it could still be either me or Changbin hyung.”

“It’s not you.” Jisung bites his lip, his tongue poking his cheek before he looks away. “Fine, then Changbin hyung.”

This time, even Hyunjin winces. He knows it’s cold, but he’s certain it isn’t Jisung. Aside from Seungmin, this is the most certain he is. 

If it really was Jisung, that bond would have been acknowledged a long time ago. It wasn’t, so it’s not. He knows Jisung’s pouting because of it, but he doesn’t want to give him false hope. It isn’t going to help either of them figure this out or move on.

Chan raises his cup to get their attention. Minho looks away from Jisung’s slouched figure. “For the record, I don’t think it’s me. With how much I know about Sentinels, I doubt it would have taken this long to figure it out. Felix, Hyunjin, and Changbin make more sense.”

Felix nods at Chan. “Right, so it can’t be me either.”

That leaves Hyunjin and Changbin, both unlikely, but somehow who he expected. If it’s a matter of chemistry, he certainly has it with both of them, each in their own unexpected ways, wildly different from the other’s.

Jeongin voices this before he can, adding that he thinks Hyunjin is more likely. Seungmin agrees silently, but Hyunjin shakes his head.

“It’s definitely not me, but what are his powers going to be?” Jisung lights up at this, flicking his wrist with the calibrator to transfer the image from the screen onto the monitor below the chronometer. 

“Super enhanced senses which, after he learns to control them, will be crazy insane, interdimensional phasing, enhanced strength and speed, increased metabolism and healing factor, tracking and a whole list of other abilities he gains with a Guide.” Jisung sets the screen down to face them. “I mean, even without a Guide, hyung, you’re going to be super cool. Not that you’re not already cool—you’re really cool hyung, don’t worry—but even cooler than that.” He finishes with an endearingly awkward hand gesture, swinging his arm around and then back again.

Felix nods at Jisung’s speech. “There are ways to regain control of your abilities without a Guide too, so we can work on that for now. It’ll give you something to do while you figure out who your Guide is.”

Chan pulls up a blueprint of the building, highlighting a room off the main hallway, somewhere below the kitchen. “There’s a storage room here, you could use this to train.” Felix jumps up as soon as he says that, practically dragging Minho down the ladder before anyone can say anything. 

The storage room isn’t anything more than a large insulated room, with thick cement walls and wide beams spanning the ceiling.

“Okay, hyung, are you ready?”

He isn’t, as a matter of fact. He has no idea what Felix is trying to do, nor what he’s supposed to do, conversely. 

Felix flips a switch and the room is flooded with strips of green light running vertically against the walls, and an eerie muted chartreuse glow emanating from the floor that he now realizes is glass. 

And reveals a clear drop miles down. 

He thinks—read: hopes—that it’s just an advanced hologram and his fear is distorting things out of his perception, but there’s no way to prove that either. 

So when Felix goes out of his way to submerge the rest of the room in darkness, the green lines and glow from the floor dimming all he can do is wait as his vision adjusts to this new setting.

Things get a little weirder from this point onwards, the beams of light wavering and bending, too fluid to be the same strips of light he recalls, but he can’t really remember what the room looks like now. 

He hears a loud beat, a two step thump that his heart syncs onto immediately, no echo like the past two times he’s felt such a strong sense of rubatosis. Within seconds of syncing to the heartbeat, he’s located its source. Felix stands precisely 2.9 yards at a 35 degree diagonal to his right.

He isn’t even sure how he knows, but the minute it syncs, he’s able to follow the heartbeat to meet Felix. 

And then it shifts all over again, but this time the entire floor flips upside down and all he can think to do is flatten himself to the floor and pray that it’s just an illusion and that he really isn’t about to fall to his death from such a height.

He trusts Felix enough to go along with whatever he has planned, but he isn’t too sure if he trusts the technology all that much. Or himself.

Despite being upside down, he isn’t falling, which is barely a small miracle, but he’ll take it. He can still sense Felix’s heartbeat, but he has no idea where the younger Lee is. There’s a fog surrounding him, like he’s holding his breath. Minho closes his eyes, holding his hands forward in front of him just in case he bumps into anything and blindly takes a step forward. 

Anticlimactically, nothing happens.

Well, until something does.

The room flips over again, but he can tell this time that he’s dangling over something and that does nothing to alleviate his panic. He tries crouching down, but his legs are locked in place. His breathing is more rapid now, breath coming in short gasps as he tries to calm himself long enough to figure out exactly what this crazy room is doing to him. He isn’t sure where Felix is, or if he’s even supposed to be trying to find Felix again.

He can’t see, which is frustrating enough, considering he’s supposed to be the one with enhanced senses, but he can’t even see his nose if he strains his eyes. All trying serves to do is give him a splitting headache. 

He closes his eyes for a moment’s reprieve, relieved when it works.

And somehow, he can see. The room is as clear as it had been prior to Felix turning on those green lights, with more detail than he remembers. If he leans forward, he can clearly see each grain of steel, the titanium microwires that run alongside the beams on the ceiling, which he didn’t even notice at first glance. 

He can see the words written on Felix’s bracelet, despite Felix being a good ten meters from him at this point. Although…

“Why would you have ‘yeet’ on a bracelet?”

Felix jumps at that, whirling around. Minho tilts his head, watching curiously. Can Felix not see him? He swears he closed his eyes, but everything is so clear now that he thinks he might have opened them instead. 

“Hyung?” The younger of the two of them is now facing the opposite direction, staring at a beam instead of Minho.

Minho hides a smile, although it’s obvious in his voice. “Turn eleven degrees to your left.”

“How the actual heck am I supposed to know how far eleven degrees is, Minho hyung?”

At this, Minho frowns. “Can’t you sense it?”

“Sense—what the—it worked!” He sees Felix jump in place then quickly stop, whirling around suspiciously. “Wait, it did work right?”

He doesn’t know what was supposed to work, so he hesitates, sticking with humming noncommittal in case whatever it was didn’t. “I can clearly see you, why are you facing the opposite direction?”

Felix squints this time, freckles crinkling with his nose. He looks adorable like this, like a cute little confused chick and Minho just wants to squish his cheeks a little. He sounds more than dubious when he finally speaks. “You already figured out your sight?”

Huh?

His… sight? He can see well enough, can’t he? In fact, Felix’s vision is probably better off than Minho’s, all things considered. 

“Wait, but you were experiencing somatosensory and auditory overload according to Hyunjin; how do you manage to master _vision_?” He is a little more than incredulous at this, and Minho giggles a little. He’s well aware his sense of touch and sense of hearing were driving him crazy, but those seem to be at bay for now. 

He thanks his Guide, hoping they can at least sense his gratitude, even if he isn’t sure who they are. 

His friends claim to have narrowed it down to Hyunjin and Changbin, but he really isn’t too sure. There is no handbook to this ancient race of Sentinels he seems to be a part of, no way of knowing whether there needs to be a prior connection or not. For all he knows, his Guide could be anyone back in the district. That’s obviously the worst case scenario, but he thinks the others are a little too confident in something they know next to nothing about. 

His vision flashes in the next moment though, and he’s plunged into that murky darkness once more, left to wade through the swamp in his mind as his body remains stuck in place. 

A chime from where thinks he remembers Felix being, but without that clarity, he can’t be sure. It grows louder with each tap, falling out of sync with the heartbeat. As soon as that connection snaps, a visceral yellow fills his vision, washing out the darkness. The brightness grows with the chime until he feels like his eyes will bleed if he continues to look at it, but he can’t shut it out—his eyes are already closed.

He wonders if this is what it’s like to go blind and deaf at the same time.

The ringing is familiar—painful, but a known devil is worse than an unknown angel—not that he takes any pleasure in that. It echoes, each wave bouncing off the other to create a horrifying cacophony of pure noise.

He stumbles backwards, finally breaking free from the platform he’d been stuck on, arms thrown forward. He doesn’t fall, suspended somewhere between the ground and his fear below him when he sees it.

The sangria colored bubbles that erupt from above him, filling the space he doesn’t, cushioning him and absorbing him. He surrenders to the froth, finding himself finally able to breathe. He blinks, reaching out to bring the bubbles to inspect them closely—despite his newly enhanced vision, the bubbles are still blurry no matter how close he goes to them—but they only dissolve, leaving behind no trace of their existence as he emerges. 

Felix stands on the other side, gaping at him. For some reason, Minho is on the floor, lying on his back. He doesn’t remember that, and the light is an oddly familiar shade of red, tinted with a hint of wine purple, not the unearthly green he remembers. On the ceiling above him is a bubbling substance that drips down onto the floor, the seemingly acidic substance eating away at whatever it comes into contact with.

Oddly enough, the substance has missed Felix all together, and disappears the minute it comes into contact with anything. The feeling of deja vu at seeing the sangria dancing in his vision once more has him biting his tongue in the anticipation of something that isn’t even there. 

“How did you do that?” Felix breathes, words running into each other as he rushes to exhale. Minho shakes his head, still trying to catch his breath from where he lies on the floor. Felix leans over to pull him up, hand extended. Minho takes it warily, letting himself be dragged up. The minute he’s standing, the bubbles dissipate, though their erosion remains.

“You mastered vision,” Felix says, smiling up at him. “Congratulations hyung, you’re officially the strongest Sentinel in the world.”

* * *

He finds Chan in the kitchen, staring at the 3d printer as if he can will it into printing their food out with just his eyes.

Well, he _is_ Bang Chan. If there’s anyone that could figure it out, it would definitely be him.

“Hyung.” He props himself up on the counter next to the printer, waiting for the older to respond. He leans back against his right hand, left hand tapping against the counter. Chan doesn’t say anything for a moment, poking the printer suspiciously.

Minho sighs, taking Chan’s hand and threading their fingers together. “You’re not mad.”

He’s not. He is. Should he be? It doesn’t matter. Chan’s actions came from a good place, and even though they struggle to talk to each other sometimes, he knows his hyung is just looking out for him. 

Chan finally looks up, dark circles glaringly obvious against his pale skin. Minho reaches over with his left hand to trace them. “You haven’t been sleeping well.”

The older scoffs at this, batting his hand away though his cheeks are still pink from the close contact. “I wouldn’t say you’re exactly in a place to be talking about sleeping well.”

“I never said I was,” he argues, letting go of his hand to play with it instead, tugging on each finger until the knuckle cracks. “I just said you weren’t sleeping well either. You could’ve told us about it.”

“You told me you don’t remember anything from the past week or so.”

A valid point. “Much,” Minho corrects. “I said I don’t remember much. I remember everything from yesterday though, so I’d call it an isolated freak accident. And it has nothing with you not telling us about it.”

Chan sighs. “You’ve already got plenty to worry about.”

“You really need to have more faith in us,” Minho chastises, patting his cheek patronizingly. “I might not be in the best condition for now, but it’s just to give you guys some time to catch up. And anyway, it’s not just me. You’ve got Changbinnie too—hyung line remember?”

“If I told either of you, Hyunjin and Felix would feel bad that I didn’t tell them first.” He’s not wrong, but then again—

“There’s no reason to tell them that you told us first,” Minho says. “And I can tell that you’re stalling. Seriously, what is it?”

Chan shakes his head. “I’m just worried.”

“I’m fine.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry.” 

Minho pauses, hands stilling where they were playing with his thumb. He takes his hand again, squeezing it. “Hey. Chan hyung. Look, things aren’t great now. Things weren’t great then either. But we’re all still together, aren’t we? We’re going to figure this out, and you don’t have to do it alone, so you don’t have to worry, okay?”

He knows he isn’t the greatest when it comes to pep talks and encouraging others. He prefers to support them silently, helping them wherever he can. Words have always been harder, even if he’s the most skilled at smooth talking. 

Chan is silent, staring at their hands with an unreadable look. “You know who your Guide is, don’t you?”

“Nope,” he responds easily. “Not a clue. But that’s okay, Lixie said I made a real breakthrough today. You know what that means?”

“That things are going to be okay?” Chan’s smiling slightly, and he’s clearly just humoring Minho, which he would normally slap him for, but given everything that’s happened, he can cut him a little slack. It’s good enough, for now.

He nods, smirking brightly. “Now you’re getting it. That’s exactly it.”

Chan shakes his head at that, letting go of his hands to turn back to the printer. “‘Lix wanted eggs, but I don’t think this one is working. Can you pass me the one behind you?”

Minho laughs, batting his hands away from the printer. He reaches around the back to press a button, the 3d printer whirring to life with a resounding hum. It’s a little loud for his taste, but Chan’s still looking at him, so he tries to school his expression into something that doesn’t give away his discomfort. He manages to hold his gaze until Chan turns back to check on the eggs. He exhales slowly, rubbing his temples to rid himself of the headache onset. “Hyung, what would you do with us? You couldn’t even remember to turn on the thing to make _eggs._ Poor Felix, honestly, what are you going to ever cook for him?”

Chan sputters at this, clearly not expecting Minho to go straight for the jugular, but in all fairness, it was just waiting to be said. Of course Minho’s going to say it.

“Wha—that has nothing to do with—Jisung, stop _laughing_!” Minho turns around to find Jisung doubled over in the entrance, cackling away at a flustered Chan and he can’t help but join in.

“Sorry, Chan hyung,” Jisung manages to get out. “You’re just really something when it comes to Felix, you know?”

Judging by how red the eldest is growing, he does not. Minho just continues laughing gleefully, even as Chan slaps his arm to try and get him to stop. “Okay, okay, you two. You’ve made your point; you can stop laughing now.”

It takes him a minute to stop, but he manages to, exchanging a glance with Jisung before they both smirk at Chan. Jisung sings something about Chan liking Felix, and their eldest practically lunges forward to slap him, but Jisung dodges nimbly, sticking his tongue out at Chan.

“Minho hyung, how did training go?” Jisung says, standing between his legs and hugging him. “Felix says you did really well and then a bunch of stuff I didn’t understand, but he might have been talking to Seungminnie, so I don’t know.”

Minho shrugs, pulling Jisung closer, even though he’s overheating at this point. “Apparently I figured out my vision or something, but I don’t really understand either. Chan hyung?”

Chan gives Minho a look as he pats Jisung’s head, but Minho ignores it, turning Jisung around to slouch over his back. “Vision is important to Sentinels, you know that. You don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Sure, but I don’t even understand how to use it,” Minho points out, resting his chin on the top of Jisung’s head. “I’m not even sure about how it works. Does it mean I can see in the dark, or even when I close my eyes, or do I have 20/20 vision again, or what?”

He pauses looking up and squinting at the one way glass ceiling. “Has that always been there or am I imagining things?” 

Jisung looks up too, forehead butting against his chin the process. He leans back so he can see. “I don’t see anything, hyung.” Chan turns away from the printer to look up as well.

“The ceiling’s easily 100 meters or so away; what are you seeing?” Minho glances down before looking back up. 

“Wait, you guys don’t see the drone?”

It’s almost comical, the way both of their heads whip back up as they squint at the ceiling skeptically. “I guess _that’s_ your vision, Minho.”

Huh. Guess it is. 

“What’s the drone doing?” Jisung asks, still squinting up at the ceiling. Minho looks back up. “It’s just circling, but it can’t see us anyway.”

Chan nods. “Bunkers like this were built to evade android heat scanners, so we should be safe. We’ll need to keep an eye on the outside security cameras. I wouldn’t say it’s a stretch for drones to be surveilling the area, but I would say it’s a bit abnormal.”

He holds up a bowl of mangled eggs. “You think Felix will like this?”

Jisung exchanges a look with Minho. “Yeah! Sure hyung, he’s going to love it! I’m sure it tastes great.” 

Minho makes a face at his best friend. That last statement was clearly taking it too far. The eggs probably taste like eggs, at best. “Felix will like it because you made it for him, hyung.”

Chan smiles at both of them gratefully, as if he knows exactly how unappetizing the eggs look and probably taste, but still takes them to Felix dutifully. Minho grabs a packet of fire ramen and pours the powder into the printer.

“Hyung, do you really think I can’t be your Guide?” 

And there’s the question he’s been avoiding.

In all honesty, it isn’t that he doesn’t think Jisung would make a bad Guide. It isn’t even that he doesn’t want Jisung to be his Guide. They work well together and they understand each other perfectly. They’re each other’s soulmates and that’s undeniable.

But he also just _knows_ Jisung isn’t his Guide.

Minho sighs, taking the noodles from the cup and pouring in some of the leftover soup from the day before. “Honestly? No.”

He hates how Jisung’s face falls at that. “Why? I mean, would it really be so bad?”

He shakes his head, stabbing a fork into the noodles. The bunker seems to be lacking in chopsticks. “Hannie, we would have worked great together. But if you were my Guide, that bond would have been acknowledged a long time ago, and it hasn’t.”

Now he just looks miffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that either something was blocking the bond, which isn’t even possible, or that there is no Sentinel-Guide bond.” Minho takes a bite of the noodles, the fiery heat tingling on his dry lips, burning his tongue on the way.

Jisung crosses his arms. “That’s not fair, though. What if something is blocking the bond?”

“I would be able to tell,” Minho answers immediately, taking another bite of the noodles. “‘Sungie, it’s really not personal. Just because I have a bond with a Guide doesn’t mean you aren’t important to me.”

Jisung shakes his head, glaring at the ramen. “It’s not that! Hyung, you really can’t see it being us, can you? You said it’s a bond between the Sentinel and Guide, but that’s a two way relationship and you’re acting like you’re the only one who knows!”

Minho sighs, setting the cup down. “What do you want me to say, then? You don’t want to hear what I know, but you really don’t know that much about it either. Jisungie, it’s not personal, why are you so fixated on this?”

It’s the wrong thing to say. It’s the right thing to say. He doesn’t know. Jisung does need to hear this, but maybe he could have waited. It’s not like he knows who his Guide is either, but he does feel like he’s qualified enough to point out the obvious.

“You really don’t have to act like it’s impossible, hyung,” he mutters. “Honestly, you could just say you don’t want it to be me and we could just move on. Since we’re pretending we know everything and all that.”

“Wha—why are you getting about this?”

Jisung ignores the question, scoffing and shaking his head with disdain before he storms away. Minho sighs, about to pick his cup back up again when a cloth hits him in the face.

“What was that all about?” He shrugs, tugging the maroon and navy striped pullover on. It’s Hyunjin’s, so the sleeves are a little long and fall past his fingers, but it’s soft. “I don’t think Jisung’s my Guide.”

A nod. “You did mention that last night.”

He glares at the younger. “Hwang Hyunjin, what do you want me to say?”

Hyunjin shrugs, holding out his cup of ramen. Minho takes it without looking, still eyeing him warily. “I don’t want you to say anything. I just want you to consider all the possibilities. You and I both know I’m not your Guide.”

“We don’t _know_ that.”

Hyunjin gives him a look, stealing a bite of the spicy noodles before nearly spitting them out. He reaches for the bottle of water behind him, gasping at the spice. “I do. In the same way you know Jisung isn’t your Guide, I know I’m not yours.”

Minho lowers his fork. “Then who?”

The smile the younger gives him is pitying, as if it’s obvious who it really is. As if he should know by now, but he can’t clearly discern who it is. He loves all his friends equally, there really isn’t a reason for him to discern who it is.

“Come on, hyung, just think about it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in other news, i loved seungmin's cover! it was so soft and comforting, i honestly love his voice.
> 
> [visuals](https://fallindeepthefic.carrd.co/) *extras page has been updated with some more visuals, so do check it out!*
> 
> once again, i'd love to know what your thoughts are in the comments! i honestly appreciate every single one of you who's taken the time to read this!


	4. [commence]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I mean, yeah, it is partially a matter of pride, but it’s mostly just the way they are. 
> 
> When it comes to Lee Minho and Hwang Hyunjin, words have never meant anything where their actions can mean more.
> 
> He’s so used to Minho taking care of him, and looking out for him that he sometimes forgets the older is a little over a year older than him, and that he’s just as vulnerable as the rest of them, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, i'm back! did ya miss me? sorry this chapter is so late, i was a bit stressed with applications and the, uh, election, so it took a little longer to pull myself away from all that and focus on writing, but the chapter is here now, and i hope it's worth the wait! as always, any comments, kudos, and questions are appreciated; i can't wait to read what y'all think about what's happened so far!

Lee Minho.

The bane of his existence and the closest thing he has to an older brother, although it’s a significantly more platonic and less familial relationship, now that he’s gotten over the momentary hero worship thing he had back when they were reckless teenagers racing in the streets to piss off the Bureau. He’ll never tell the older, but he looks up to him immensely. From the way he put aside his issues with the system to become a Bureaucrat to the amount of pain he’s currently in as he awakens as a Sentinel, he’s the strongest person Hyunjin knows. 

I mean, yeah, it is partially a matter of pride, but it’s mostly just the way they are. 

When it comes to Lee Minho and Hwang Hyunjin, words have never meant anything where their actions can mean more.

He’s so used to Minho taking care of him, and looking out for him that he sometimes forgets the older is a little over a year older than him, and that he’s just as vulnerable as the rest of them, even if it doesn’t seem like it.

Case in point: his avid refusal to acknowledge who his Guide is.

Minho has ignored it for almost three days now, and that’s bordering on their fourth day in this bunker, which Hyunjin is also equally fed up with.

Fortunately for him, Jisung and Jeongin seem to have found a way to sneak them back into the district, although it’s clear it won’t be the same as before. The others will have it easier, what with Changbin’s cover being a convenience store worker, Seungmin and Jeongin’s a mechanic, Jisung’s a part time convenience store worker, and Chan’s a convenience store owner. 

Felix will probably be able to get away with claiming a leave of absence due to investigation, but it’ll still be highly suspicious and he’ll likely be surveilled closely for a while. 

As for Minho and Hyunjin, there’s no going back. As a Bureau deserter, Minho is officially wanted, and with the previous ARMY dispersion, they have to assume he has no support. As a medic deserter, Hyunjin is equally screwed; he’s got no chance at a job now, not after disappearing for almost a week, and abandoning his post as the control lead of the 00’s. 

He understood this going in—they both did when Chan said they had no chance of going back—but it still frustrates him to know that all the effort he put in to learn how he could help people is going to waste. 

“I just don’t understand how a JYP corporate only event is our ticket to reinserting ourselves in the district,” Seungmin points out. “That’s probably the most public event of this quarter, aside from the Bureau proceedings. If we get caught, it’s over.”

Chan nods. “That’s why we won’t be getting caught.”

Minho snorts in the corner, perched on an armrest, half leaning over on Felix. Jisung glares at him, but he either doesn’t notice it or elects to ignore it. “Hyung, you’re forgetting who you’re talking about. We’re the most likely people to get caught, no offense.”

Hyunjin knows that’s a perfectly valid statement, but Jisung still looks personally affronted by this.

“I can be on the ground,” he offers, tearing his eyes away from Minho to look at the diagram of the building, which is somehow connected to the bunker through an underground series of tunnels. Chan rejects the offer with a single shake of his head.

“Sorry Jisungie, we’ll need your skills with the comms and security. Ideally, we’ll send in Hyunjin and Minho, but that all depends. Minho, you up to it?”

Minho raises an eyebrow at Jisung, nodding. “Sure, we’ve reduced the suppressant doses back down to a single vial again, and Felix says I’ve got a solid understanding of the whole enhanced vision thing and tracking.”

“Hyunjin?”

He nods as well. “If hyung’s fine to go in, then so am I.” He might be terrified of what comes next, but he knows he’s more terrified for Minho, and for that reason, he’s going in.

Jeongin holds up the small gadgets that have been sitting on the table in front of them. “If you guys keep these on at all times, we’ll be able to see what you can. We figured the dangly earrings suited your personas the best, would draw the least attention, and be the most practical. Just make sure they don’t fall off. There’s matching chokers with it, but in case they look too out of place, we’ll have the cameras as a backup.”

Seungmin takes over from there, handing them the earrings to get familiar with. “While Hannie monitors the security and scrambles their signals from detecting either of you, Chan hyung will keep an eye on Hyunjin’s feed and Changbin hyung on Minho’s.”

He catches Changbin staring at the floor, with almost the same intensity as Jisung’s glare aimed at Minho and wonders what that’s all about. “When’s the event?”

Jeongin glances down at the screen. “Tonight.”

Tonight. That’s a lot faster than he was expecting, but given who the team has picked for the infiltration, it shouldn’t take them too long to prepare anyway. He and Minho have been media trained since they chose their careers path, and they were both flawless enough in their fields that no one would suspect them of defecting.

Felix holds up a bag. “The old Diplomats must have left these behind, so you guys’ll have to go and pick out which one fits the best. They’re all made of this weird silk material that’s strong enough to withstand the military grade tasers, so there’s that.”

Hyunjin takes the bag from him, standing up so Minho can see too. All of the colors are muted, but still bold enough to fit in with JYPCorp and the higher level Bureaucrats. “Won’t Minho hyung be recognized?” He holds up an emerald green shirt to Minho, who shakes his head, handing him a purple shirt with short sleeves instead. “Oh wait, I actually like this one.”

“Well, yes, but also no,” Chan answers. “I’ll admit I’m not entirely sure of all of the connections, but Changbin can fill us in when you guys are in there. Rumor has it the Bureau has Sentinels working for them already; if we can get any kind of information from them, then it’ll help Minho.”

Minho pulls out a dark red shirt with long sleeves and a choker attached to the neckline. Hyunjin notices Jisung stop glaring when he sees it. Ah, so that’s what it is.

Oh, he’s so going to smack this boy later. 

He sets the shirt in his lap to make sure it fits later. He knows there’s other makeup and accessories in there, so hopefully it’s enough to keep them from getting caught. At least, until they have a chance to convene with the other Sentinels.

“What if they don’t know?” Minho’s voice is stronger than it’s been these past few days, and Felix promises them he’s improving in his control. “If they’re attending the event, isn’t it likely the Bureau got to them first?”

Hyunjin didn’t even think of that. “If that were the case, how would we even know that they’re a Sentinel?”

“Screw with their senses,” Jisung mutters darkly. “Just make a loud noise or something.”

Next to him, Minho rolls his eyes. Felix frowns at that, considering some merit of it. What that is, Hyunjin can’t see. Jisung’s clearly just acting out of spite right now, and until he gets this frustration out of his system, he’s not going to be coming up with anything useful.

“Any loud noise would get everyone’s attention though,” he finally says, seemingly giving up on the idea. “Sentinels have extremely sensitive hearing, and Minho hyung hasn’t completely mastered his yet.”

“Only vision, smell, and tracking,” Chan interjects, to which Felix nods.

“Right. And obviously, taste could be helpful, but it would be a larger scale infiltration, and we just don’t have the time to be adding in something to the food. Touch is out of question; it would be far too obvious, and auditory could potentially backfire.”

Minho shrugs, rolling his shoulders against the back of the sofa. He’s been particularly careful lately, avoiding putting too much pressure on anything for fear that it would break. Nothing’s been as bad as that day with the table and the bean chair, and Hyunjin has his own theories for that, but Minho doesn’t want to listen, so he’ll wait on those. “Not necessarily.”

Felix raises an eyebrow. “Hyung, you’re still super sensitive to sound.”

“If you dull my senses it’s not so bad,” Minho points out, raising his hand when both Hyunjin and Felix open their mouths to protest. “I’m not saying a full dose of the suppressants or anything; but what if we did a booster dose or whatever right before Hyunjin played a higher frequency sonar wave, on a frequency that only Sentinels could hear?”

Felix nods slowly. “That could work, but it’s not ideal because it’s not good for  _ you _ , hyung. Theoretically, given the circumstances, that would be the ideal plan. But the ideal plan doesn’t take into account pain tolerance or anything, so it’s not the safest.”

“Them going in there in the first place isn't the safest.” Jisung again, although he looks more disgruntled than mad at this point. Hyunjin sets his shirt in his lap, silently daring him to further tempt fate. “As long as it won’t permanently damage anything, it should be fine, right?”

Hyunjin, the only medic in the room, begs to differ, but you know, who needs the opinion of an expert when you could come up with your own? He looks over at Felix to see his reaction, only to find the younger looking at him. “Well, in theory, but there’s no guarantee that the damage will be immediately noticeable. The suppressants are insanely strong, and they do come from another dimension which isn’t all that well explored or researched, so I have no idea what would happen. Not to mention, resistance and overdose are valid concerns to take into account.”

While this is more for the others’ benefit than Minho really, Hyunjin thinks it’s worth noting that the former Bureaucrat looks particularly undeterred.

As expected, that really is his charm, isn’t it?

His expression is a throwback to the one he sported back when they were racing, an almost detached stare complete with a cool composure. The only difference is that Hyunjin can see the physical toll all of this has taken; so he’s both extremely tired and stronger than he’s ever been before.

If only hero-worship Hyunjin could see this Minho now.

“If there’s no way to tell, then we might as well go for it,” Felix says, looking at the red shirt bunched in Minho’s lap. “We have no idea if Minho hyung can recognize other Sentinels or not, but that’s also because he hasn’t come into contact with any of them after awakening as a Sentinel. If it goes wrong though, that’s on us.”

Minho scoffs, stretching his back until it cracks before slumping back over Felix, arms thrown lazily over his shoulders. “It’s really not. I suggested it, and I’m the one who’s going to do it.”

Chan raises his head. “We’ll put it to a vote. All those in favor of Minho using a temporary booster dose?”

As expected, Minho raises his hand. What Hyunjin doesn’t expect is to see Jisung raise his hand  _ immediately _ . Felix isn’t as much of a surprise, it’s clear he’s trying his hardest to think rationally right now and that he’s struggling. Seungmin isn’t so much of a surprise, and it’s not like they would wish ill on each other, but that he knows if this is something Minho wants to do, then he’s going to do it, but Chan is. Even Jeongin looks hesitant, but ends up raising his hand tentatively.

They’ve clearly outvoted the opposition, but Chan still asks for those against it. Hyunjin thinks it’s unfair that it’s only him and Changbin, when it’s clear that they are the ones who’ve seen Minho at his worst. Plus, he thinks there’s a little more to it than just that on Changbin’s side, but he’s honestly hard to read, and so is Minho. And not to sound like a broken record, but Hyunjin  _ is  _ a doctor. And a good one at that.

The rest of the hour is spent figuring out how long the dose will need to last, how small the dose can be, and what the likely side effects are. Even despite their recent discovery of a lab in the bunker, there’s plenty to be said about Hyunjin’s confidence in their plan.

Which is to say, he doesn’t have any. 

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. It’s gotten long, almost as long as it was when he was blond and racing Minho. He catches sight of someone walking past the doorway and jumps to his feet, knocking over a stool in his rush to get to them.

“Wait,” he calls out, grabbing his arm to pull him into the nearest room. “I need your help.”

* * *

Either the event isn’t as exclusive as they’d thought it to be, or their higher ups outnumber them by far more than they believed them to.

Regardless of which one it is, Hyunjin and Minho blend in perfectly. Their clothes fit in perfectly with the elites of the Bureau despite being made some twenty years ago, and the accessories only further help them blend in. Even if Hyunjin thinks Minho’s choker and his own obnoxious harness are a bit much, if it’ll keep them safe, he’ll put up with it.

“Hyung, do you think you can tell yet?” Next to him, Minho’s incredibly tense, to the point where he’d be worried about muscle rigidity if it wasn’t for the whole Sentinel thing. He repeats his question twice to no response, finally reaching over to hold his hyung’s hand to get his attention. Minho relaxes almost instantly at the contact, shoulder slumping. “Can you sense them?”

Minho closes his eyes, probably tracking or something. It’s not like Hyunjin’s a Sentinel to know how it all works. He wishes he understood it all better, but until Minho acknowledges the bond with his Guide, there isn’t much he can do.

“It’s weak,” Minho finally says. “I can tell that there are others here, but I can’t tell who or anything. I’ll just stick to tracking you so we can split up.”

Hyunjin nods. That  _ was  _ their initial plan anyway. Might as well stick to it. Besides, he’s got his secret weapon in mind anyway. Just in case Minho needs it, and he prays he won’t, but it doesn’t hurt to be safe.

He slips out of the atrium, following the line of shimmering shirts and skirts down to the lower level. Across from the pink holographic fountain is a glass sculpture which, if he remembers correctly, should be covering the hallway leading to their security room. If he can slip in undetected, he’ll plant the signal booster so the others can get their signal from here.

“Ya, Han-ah, can you see it?” He asks, snatching a glass from the android passing by him, holding it up to his lips demurely and ducking his head down slightly when another patron’s glance lingers a second too long. 

_ “The signal’s still behind the statue. There aren’t any detectable cameras on the other side, so there must be more they want to keep a secret. Ah wait—Jeonginnie stop kicking me—this is really such a pain; this place smells weird. Why am I always underground?” _

Hyunjin clears his throat pointedly, feeling around the back of the statue before swiftly stepping behind it, taking care to look around and make sure no one had spotted him. Thankfully, the venue lighting is poor enough that even if they did see something moving, there’s no way to connect it to a person, or more importantly, Hwang Hyunjin the former 00 line medic. “Jisung.”

_ “Right, right sorry. It should be on your left at the end of the hallway. There’s a little drop off, a couple stairs or so, and the room’s curved; it hangs out over the Gulf too.” _

Hyunjin follows his instructions, a hand held out cautiously in front of him and the other behind him, tiptoeing down the hallway until he catches sight of the stairs he previously mentioned. 

The security room itself is impressive, given how architecturally and aesthetically intricate it is, but that’s not what he came for. He tucks his hair back behind his ear at Jisung’s insistence at being unable to see through the earring cameras and clips the booster under the desk.

“Is it broadcasting?” He straightens, crossing his arms over his chest as he takes in the view, counting the Bureau hovercrafts that take off from the other side of the Gulf, each one identical to the next.    
  


_ “Yeah, we got it. Chan hyung says he can see you clearly and that Changbin hyung’s got Minho hyung’s feed under control.” _

Hyunjin nods at that, forgetting that the other can’t see him. “Where are the files you wanted me to find?”

_ “They should be behind the drawer across from you—oh wait, Chan hyung says he’ll lead you.” _

Hyunjin waits for him to hand the mic over to their oldest friend, staring at the wall to his right, lined with sleek drawers lit by strip lights under each row. 

_ “Hyunjin?” _

“Yeah, hyung?”

_ “It should be a small drawer towards the top, can you see it?” _

He can. “Ah, is this why you picked me? Using me for my height, Chan hyung, it’s not my fault you’re all short.”

He can hear all three of them sputtering excuses, Jisung defending his height, Changbin whining about how he’s not small, and Chan claiming that he’s  _ fun-sized, Hyunjin, not  _ short _. _ Ah, their 3racha, shorter than the rest of them—although Chan and Felix are the same height—but so full of rage. He smiles faintly, prying the drawer open quietly. “Okay, I’ve got it open. Do you want me to just shove all of the chips down my pants or something?”

Across the line, Jisung scoffs, faintly muttering.  _ “Who’s going to get it out from  _ there _?” _

Obviously, Hyunjin would get them out by himself, but if Jisung isn’t going to say something, then he’s taking matters into his own hands. “I’m sure Minho hyung wouldn’t mind.” Never mind the fact that Minho would probably actually throw him in the air fryer for 20 minutes on 180 degrees if he found out about this, that’s irrelevant to the point he’s making. 

_ “You just need to place the chips on the booster one by one,”  _ Chan instructs.  _ “We’ll tell you when they’ve transferred so you can switch them out.” _

He does just that, grabbing the nine chips and rotating them through the booster. “How’s Minho hyung doing?”

He hears another muffled scuffle, probably the mic being passed to Changbin this time.  _ “He’s waiting for you, actually.” _

Huh, he really did expect to hear from Changbin, not Chan. Guess he must have been busy guiding him.

“We’re on the last chip anyway.” He sets it on the booster, waiting for it to light up before looking away. “As soon as this one transfers, I’ll be able to release the sonar wave. We agreed to meet back up at the atrium anyway before heading up.”

Well, kind of. Not that Minho needs to know about  _ that _ . Not yet, anyway.

_ “We’ve got all of the chips, so—”  _ He hears a muttered curse and thinks that maybe Chan didn’t mean for him to hear that. 

“What?”

Another curse, louder this time. Although it isn’t Chan, it’s Jisung. _ “Hyunjin there’s an android incoming.” _

He needs to get out of there. There isn’t any other exit though, so he resorts to quickly scanning the place. Anything with metal won’t necessarily keep the android from spotting him, he needs to blend in with the technology so that it won’t notice the extra heat in the room. 

That leaves him with just the security monitor and the booster, nowhere near enough room for him to hide. There’s no guarantee that the drawers all contain enough holographic material or electronics, so he can’t press himself against those either.

He’s breathing a bit harder and faster as he glances around and he knows the symptoms of panic when he sees them—he is a doctor—and he knows that it isn’t going to help him look for a place to hide, but he can’t think straight.

What if the android recognizes him?

_ “Hyunjin.” _

Changbin’s voice is low, but steady with a calming presence from it that he appreciates. He takes a deep breath, exhaling as slowly as he can.

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks hyung.”

_ “Get behind the monitor. There’s a panel there that’ll let you slip in halfway and that should be enough to mask the extra body heat.” _

It’s times like this when he remembers that Changbin is his hyung and that, for all the fun he has with all of them, he’s equally precise and meticulous when it comes to his forte. There’s no doubt he’s one of their best strategists, just under Felix and probably even equal to Minho. 

He follows Changbin’s instructions, the panel giving him just enough space as the older had told him. The android passes by without a second glance at the security room, not even walking down the two steps to get there.

When Chan gives him the all clear, he steps out and slides the panel back into place, tossing the chips into their drawer as well. Since Jisung’s the one stuck with the less interesting part of the job, he poses for the security camera in the corner, jumping up and curving his body into a C-shape as his arms form a heart above his head.

He hears a snort of laughter in his ear and grins. Good. He might be frustrated with Jisung not talking things through and communicating, but he doesn’t want him to feel like it’s the only thing Hyunjin cares about. 

He closes the door behind him, slipping back into the event from behind the statue. He finds Minho at the upper atrium, standing behind a fountain spouting a neon green substance. 

“Did you find anything?” He mirrors Minho’s position and stares straight ahead despite standing next to his hyung. “Changbin hyung said you were waiting.”

Minho shakes his head. “I’m not sure how long the dose will last anyway; I already have a headache.”

That’s worrying. Minho’s been doing okay with Felix’s training and a single dose of suppressants each day. The training  _ is  _ supposed to help him gain control of his enhanced senses, but he’s still struggling with physical contact and auditory overload. Hyunjin isn’t even too sure that the extra dose now is going to help as much as they’d planned on it.

See, this is why he’d been against it. From the beginning. It was a stupid idea and it still is; he stands by it.

Minho must sense some of his worries, because he just pats Hyunjin’s arm placatingly. It’s clearly meant to be comforting, but it just comes off as condescending. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

He’s not and Hyunjin absolutely will continue to worry, but that isn’t really something that needs to be said. 

They can’t administer the dose out in the open like that, so they end up in a small alcove behind a faulty holographic pillar with the green fountain still in sight. Minho’s outfit is nowhere near ideal for this, and there’s no way he can get away with taking it off for the injection, so Hyunjin braces himself.

“Hyung, the only way this’ll work is if I do a cervical epidural injection.” Minho stares at him blankly, reminding him that most of his friends did not study medicine. “Your neck. It’s not exactly the same formula, but it’s not like we have a choice here either.”

He gets a thick swallow and a nod for that and can’t blame the older for being apprehensive about it. He’s administered neck injections to people with spinal implants and brain stem implants, but this is something he’s never done before. Things could easily go wrong if he doesn’t do this right.

He tries his best to move Minho’s hair away from the nape of his neck, but it’s grown a bit longer. Not anywhere near as long as Hyunjin’s current hairstyle, but definitely longer than it’s ever been before. He thinks it suits Minho though.

He preps the needle with steady, practiced hands that don’t betray his internal panic at hurting his friend. Minho stays silent throughout, simply tugging his sleeves over clenched fists.

Hyunjin wipes an alcohol swap over the base of his neck, uncapping the needle. “I’m so sorry, hyung, but this is really going to hurt.”

“Just do it.” 

He inserts the needle while holding his breath, hoping with all his heart that nothing goes wrong. Minho tenses, and Hyunjin wishes Changbin were here to help stabilize the overload, but they could only send in their two most tactful, and anyway, Changbin needed to be back there to help with the hacking and monitoring.

It shouldn’t take more than a minute after Hyunjin’s certain the injection has taken effect to release the sonar wave, and then at most six minutes after that to locate and determine who the Sentinels are. Add in an extra minute for Chan and Changbin to file them into their database and key in the facial recognition software to pick them up, and they can be out of here in as soon as eight minutes. Nine, if you add the minute it’ll take to get outside the building again after Jisung trips security.

When Minho steps away from him, he knows the suppressants have started to run their course. He genuinely has no idea how long it’ll take before they wear off, so he clicks the button sewn into his waistline, the sonar frequency emitting from a small device Jeongin designed specifically for this purpose. 

“Get ready,” he warns both Minho and their hackers.

The effect is instantaneous. While Minho just winces and grits his teeth, Hyunjin takes note of someone with long purple hair illuminated by the fountain bend over while holding her ears. He makes sure there’s nothing obscuring his earrings when he faces her.

_ “Got her, you can move on to the next one.”  _ He nods at Chan’s instructions, quickly surveying the atrium. On the lower level, maybe two meters from the centerpiece is another holding their ears while slowly attempting to slip away. He has to move further from Minho for Chan to capture her face as well, but it seems like Minho’s also noticed some of his own.

In total, he manages to capture seven, and that’s already more than he was expecting. Not to mention his total doesn’t take into account how many Minho caught sight of. 

Still, it’s more than enough for now. They’ll be able to keep an eye on them and hopefully contact some of them. He pulls Minho into an elevator, making sure to maximize whatever subtle forms of contact he can, just in case it helps with the deprivation. 

Somehow, he fails to calculate them not being alone in the elevator. It’s likely something Felix—and Changbin, for that matter, or Minho, if he had been feeling better—would have thought of, but it’s a little too late for that. He just hopes they won’t say anything.

“Turn that sonar off, would you?”

Oh, he did not expect that. He looks up at the man, gaping when he recognizes him. “You’re a Sentinel.”

Okay, so maybe that isn’t the best thing to say, but don’t blame him, he panicked.

The man’s expression changes and he waves his hand over the panel to stop the elevator, doors opening to the ground floor. “Keep your voice down, Hwang-sshi, especially if you don’t want people noticing exactly who you have with you.”

Minho speaks up, clearly choosing to ignore the ominous second half of that sentence. “You’re Jackson.”

Hyunjin will admit that the name sounds familiar, but he can’t quite place it. Where has he heard it before?

“You were an insider for ARMY, weren’t you?” The man—Jackson—nods slowly, leading them down a narrow passageway. Hyunjin would probably be a little more worried if it weren’t for Minho identifying the man.

“Was close with RM when we were starting out,” he mutters under his breath. “Haven’t heard from him in a while, do you know…?” He trails off, the question left intentionally open ended.

“Last I was with them was Operation Spring Day,” Minho openly admits. “You and Junior had long since stopped passing information on.”

Jackson scoffs, strong arming a sanitary room door open and gesturing for the other two to get inside the miniscule room. “Kind of hard to keep dealing information when we were trying to help out Jae.”

“Young K manifested?” Hyunjin’s entirely lost in the conversation at this point. 

Jackson shakes his head. “No, they tried to help out other Sentinels. I know ARMY was trying to focus on learning more about Sentinels, but Brian and Jae had inside information from JYP so Jinyoung and I agreed—”

“Jinyoung?!” Hyunjin’s voice is louder than he intends for it to be, and both Minho and Jackson give him weird looks for it. “Sorry, sorry, continue. I didn’t realize—never mind.”

There’s no way it’s the same Jinyoung, but at the same time, Minho knows about  _ his  _ Jinyoung too.

“Look, I’m only doing this because V told me to look out for you.” At this, Minho looks bewildered. “He remembers you, I guess, it doesn’t matter. You need to find your Guide and you shouldn’t use the suppressants. That silvery liquid stuff, whatever it is. It completely dulls your senses past a point and it can ruin any chance of acknowledging the bond. I have no idea what any of it means; I’m just the messenger, as usual.”

Minho is tense again, stiffly standing away from anything that could make contact with him. “Didn’t think he remembered me, honestly. How does he—never mind. Everything else is okay though, right?”

Jackson grins wolfishly at that. “Jinyoung-ah and I are still grossly in love, if that’s what you’re asking.” It’s not, and it’s clear when the silence becomes a bit awkward when both Hyunjin and Minho stare at him blankly. He clears his throat, straightening his expression. “I told V to pass on the message to RM, but I don’t know if BTS is all together right now either. Bam says he will pass on any information he finds to Chan.”

“Appreciate it,” Minho murmurs. “We’ll pass that on to Chan hyung.”

Hyunjin can tell Minho’s energy is running low and that their timer on the suppressant dose. Not to mention his worries are even more well founded at this point after what Jackson just told them. “Thank you, Jackson-sshi.”

Jackson nods curtly, finally acknowledging Hyunjin. “Right. I’ll let you guys continue whatever. And Hyunjin-sshi, for the love of god, turn that sonar off. The Bureau has Sentinels working for them and they are not on our side.”

And with that horrifying piece of information, Jackson leaves.

Hyunjin stares at Minho, clicking the button on his waistline to turn the sonar off, as Jackson had mentioned. “Hyung?”

“Yeah.” Minho sighs, repeating it again as he tilts his face upwards. “Yeah.”

Hyunjin pulls Minho out of the room, ignoring the panel because Jackson had mentioned it wouldn’t be noticed. The event is still in full swing, but the strange colors and strobe lights only strike him as eerie now, rather than coordinated as he’d thought before.

“Han-ah, any minute now.” He taps his finger restlessly, a familiar rhythm against Minho’s forearm over the silk material. “Han-ah, hurry up.”

“He’ll do it, relax.” Hyunjin stares at Minho. “Jisungie knows what he’s doing; just give him time.”

He really has no idea what goes on when it comes to Minho’s side of things with Jisung, but he knows that regardless of whatever their feelings are or were, they’re still so close to each other. “Hyung, I know, but we need to get out of here before you get any worse.”

Minho clearly hasn’t noticed the way he’s flinching at every footfall or how he’s cringing when the light swings over even remotely in their direction. “What?”

Before he can explain, Jisung cuts in.  _ “Alarms are going off in a minute; you guys need to get out of here.” _

That’s barely enough time if they walk, and since Minho’s in no condition to be anywhere near the alarm, Hyunjin decides that it’s best if they run. He tells Minho as such, and receives an eye roll for his trouble, but his hyung goes with it anyway.

They get out of the building just as the alarm goes off, and it’s muffled enough by the thick glass walls that Hyunjin can’t even hear it. 

Clearly, it’s not the same for Minho, who has his hands over his ears. Hyunjin pulls him closer, remembering that syncing with a heartbeat helps him clear his mind.

“Hyung, we’re almost there, hold on,” he murmurs, trying his best to maneuver them through the crowd of higher ups filing out of the event.

Minho stops suddenly. “I can sense one.”

Hyunjin really doesn’t have the time to process that statement and he mostly ignores it. He’s sure it’ll hit him when they’re back underground and far from being able to test that theory, but for now, it’s not a priority.

He pulls Minho into the closest alley blindly, following Seungmin’s guidance. The manhole cover is harder to drag off without Minho’s help, since the material would definitely aggravate his senses. He debates sending Minho down, but decides against it, climbing down himself and half carrying, half dragging him down after.

They stumble through the winding tunnels as best as they can with the minimal light filtering through vents and the occasional duct above them. Hyunjin almost slips in a puddle of some unknown and unidentifiable substance, but Minho drags him around it without even looking down.

By the time they reach the tube, Minho’s clearly struggling to maintain control. Hyunjin wonders if it has anything to do with what Jackson said, about the influence of the suppressants, if he  _ is  _ building up resistance to it or not.

“Hyung—”

Minho cuts him off brusquely before Hyunjin can even finish asking. “It’s fine, keep going.”

What’s fine? The situation? Hyunjin couldn’t care less about that right now; he was going to ask if  _ Minho  _ was fine, not whatever his hyung seems to have gotten into his head. He shakes his head; now isn’t the time to be arguing over this. There’ll be plenty of time for him to drill into his head that Hyunjin is worried about him, not the entire Sentinel population, unfortunately for them, and that it’s as simple as that.

The tube is waiting for them when they get there. Hyunjin fires off a quick thank you to their team engineers while Minho does the same, even if the latter is clearly going to struggle with the overwhelming sense of traveling by such a fast tube.

“Hyunjin, seriously, stop worrying,” Minho grits out. “We’re going to be fine.”

That’s certainly progress from what it was before, but it’s still not what Hyunjin wants to hear him say. He shakes his head, fingers flying over the panel as he sets it up. On the other end of the line, Seungmin shares that they’re clear to get in and that he and Jeongin will take care of the rest on the other end. 

It’s a tighter fit for Hyunjin, his long legs cramping once he’s inside, but he manages. He’s not as small—and yes, he’s going to say small because the closest any of his other friends come to his height, with the exception of Seungmin who’s only a centimeter shorter than him, is two inches shorter than him—as his other friends, but he’s not super tall either, so he doesn’t have room to complain.

It takes them under seven seconds to arrive and Hyunjin can still feel the world spinning around him as he falls out of the tube, hands flat against the definitely disgusting solid ground beneath him. 

He’s sure Minho is having a worse time than him, but when he manages to stand up, Jeongin and Minho are both waiting for him calmly. 

Ah, so it’s just him. That’s embarrassing.

“All the chips scanned through.” Seungmin bypasses a normal greeting—not that any of them could be considered normal—in favor of updating them on the situation. “Chan hyung managed to hear parts of the conversation with Jackson, and he said he’ll check in with BamBam to see if he has any information that could help us.”

Jeongin nods. “Han hyung says he managed to get a little more than just the security too, so we’ll probably be sorting through files for the next few days.”

Minho makes a face at this. Understandable. Hyunjin is used to sorting through information occasionally, but for Minho, whose job practically revolves around rotations where he does nothing but sort through files for hours on end, it’s likely a form of torture.

“Sorting files shouldn’t be too bad,” Minho says. Hyunjin does a double take; if that’s not what he was making a face at, then what?   
  
Seungmin seals both the tubes from his tablet, the doors hissing as they slid shut with a resounding click. “Chan hyung and Changbin hyung were particularly worried.”

Hyunjin laughs under his breath, smirking, but when Jeongin raises an eyebrow at his reaction, he clears his throat, schooling his expression into something more neutral. Chan’s worry, he understands. As the unofficial official leader, eldest, and general worrier, of course he would be worried. Not to mention he had an eye on Hyunjin’s cameras the entire time, which meant he had probably already picked up on more than the rest of them had. 

Changbin, on the other hand… Yeah, he was watching Minho’s cameras, but Hyunjin is almost entirely sure that wasn’t it. That definitely wasn’t all it was, in any case.

“Lead the way then,” Minho says, frowning at Hyunjin. Oops. He must have gotten a little too caught up in his thoughts to remember to school his expression. He offers Minho a smile, but the older regards him suspiciously before turning around and following Jeongin and Seungmin down the tunnel in front of them.

There’s something of liquid consistency dripping from the pipes on the side, glowing a brilliant pink as it plinks onto the metal grates below them in time with their footsteps. 3racha’s setup below the bunker is farther from where they were than he expects it to be, and Minho looks like he’s cringing with each drop of that pink liquid.

Jisung is the first one to meet them, sprawled in front of his monitors, but he jumps up as soon as he sees that they’re back. He doesn’t go to Minho the way Hyunjin expects him to, but after seeing Minho’s glare and remembering the ending of their conversation that he overheard, he thinks it’s understandable. “You’re back.”

Well, no one said he was the most observant.

Seungmin side eyes him, nodding. “Yeah, just now. Where did Chan hyung and Changbin hyung go? They were right here when we left.”

Jisung shrugs. “I think Chan hyung said something about preparing the suppressants and Changbin hyung said he’d help?”

While that’s an absolutely reasonable thing for them to do, considering they didn’t overhear all of their conversation with Jackson because of the alarm, Minho can’t continue on the suppressants.

He needs to acknowledge the bond and stop being so dense. Hyunjin is two seconds away from just locking them in the storage/training facility together at this point and forcing them to figure it out on their own. Honestly, with his luck, they probably wouldn’t figure it out even if he went to such lengths. 

He glances over at Minho before he says, “I’ll go stop that.”

Jisung turns to him, brows furrowed, mouth open to ask why, but he waves it off, climbing down the ladder to find his hyungs. 

“Hyunjin, good, you’re back. Can you help us with this? I don’t think either of us know enough about medicine to figure out the right dose size.”

Oh, they can definitely say that again. Changbin might be good at figuring out the right amount of ink for a tattoo, but he’s definitely not well versed in medicine. Chan, on the other hand, isn’t the greatest at measuring to begin with. He’s not their worst cook, but he doesn’t spend much time in the kitchen, so he doesn’t know much about liquid measurement either.

Not to mention they’re both hackers. They’re skilled at virtual measurements and whatever it is hackers do. Hyunjin wouldn’t know; he isn’t one.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” he says, taking the vial of silver suppressant from Chan and the cork from Changbin. They both gawk at him, but he just gives them a bright smile. “We won’t be needing these anymore.” When they continue to gape at him, he relents, forced smile dropping. “We learned some, uh, things. About suppressants.”

Changbin tilts his head. “Oh?”

Hyunjin winces. “Yeah, Jackson mentioned that they’re bad for Sentinels. It completely dulls the senses and screws up the ability to acknowledge the bond with a Guide.”

Chan stares at the silver liquid with wide eyes. “Minho’s been on them for a week now though. If it messes things up, it’s my fault.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, corking the vial and setting it on the counter behind his hyungs. “It’s not, hyung. You couldn’t have known. I’m the doctor and I didn’t even know either.”

Chan sighs, sitting down on the stool. “That’s insane though. He’s still pretty dependent on them right now, even if we’ve lowered it back down to one dose per twenty four hours.”

Changbin also sits down without saying anything, pressing his lips together and crossing his arms. Hyunjin bites his lip, inhaling slowly. “What now?”

“We need to slowly wean him off,” Hyunjin murmurs. “I mean, I don’t think it is possible to do it slowly. There’s really only one thing I can think of, but even then, I don’t know if it’ll work.”

Chan looks up, tilting his head up at him. “What?”

Hyunjin looks at Changbin when he speaks. “We’ve found that physical contact helps Minho hyung, especially if it’s Changbin hyung.” Changbin flushes, ears tipped red, and looks down. “If we completely cut off the suppressants, I think all of us can help with the physical contact to some extent, but that’s where Changbin hyung comes in.”

“You want to switch the dependency.” He does. It’s risky, and Minho probably won’t initially agree with it either. They will definitely have to work towards convincing him to go with it, but hopefully he’ll understand.

Changbin raises his head at that. “I’m fine with that, but you know Minho hyung won’t agree to that.”

Oh, Hyunjin knows. It’s his biggest worry at this point, the way Minho doesn’t tell them how he’s doing because he thinks it’s a bother to talk about those kinds of things. He only hopes that they will be able to convince him.

A loud thud from above stops him from voicing this, the three of them rushing from under the overhanging floor to see what happened. “Uh, Hyunjin hyung?”

Jeongin’s voice is awfully quiet for someone who’s supposed to be calling out to him, but he doesn’t think twice before climbing back up the ladder, both Changbin and Chan right on his heels. “What happened?”

Minho is crouched down, staring blankly at the shattered monitor in front of him. Jisung looks equally horrified, hands clutched over his chest in a way that would be comical if it weren't for how he stares at the destruction in front of him. Seungmin seems a bit calmer, although he is usually one of the quickest to regain his composure.

“The suppressant wore off,” Minho murmurs, voice barely audible. “I think this might be the enhanced strength Jisung mentioned again.”

The rest of them, with the exception of Jisung and Minho who are still transfixed by the monitor, are looking at Hyunjin. 

He exchanges a glance with Changbin, thinking back to his last words. They might not have to worry about that after all. “Alright, hyung, we need to get you off the suppressants.”

He can hear Seungmin, Jeongin, and Jisung questioning it, since they didn’t hear the explanation either, but Chan will just have to explain what he can for now. Hyunjin tugs Changbin forward by the wrist, grabbing Minho’s one shoulder and waiting for Changbin to do the same on the other side.

Surprisingly, Minho doesn’t protest when they pull him up, their arms around his waist and back to support him. “We need to get him to the training room.” He can only hope that Felix is finished, and he would normally be understanding if he wasn’t, because what Hyunjin asked for was hard enough on its own, but the short timeline would have likely made it impossible. “Felix is setting it up.”

Changbin raises an eyebrow, arm tightening protectively around Minho. “Oh, that’s why we haven’t seen him? He said he was going to be following your progress on the holo-map and didn’t want us disturbing him.”

Hyunjin nods, then shakes his head, shifting Minho so that the weight is more manageable. “Well, yes and no. He probably managed to do that too, honestly.”

“What did you ask him to do?” Minho’s voice is raspy, like he’s been screaming for hours straight and Hyunjin makes a mental note to look into the effects of suppressants and the human body. He wants to smack himself for not doing it sooner, but well, it  _ had  _ been working when nothing else had. 

It must show on his face, for the next thing he knows, Minho is patting his arm softly, far softer than he usually is with Hyunjin, at any rate. “It’s not your fault, Hyunie.”

And it’s been so long since Minho’s called him that that his eyes tear up, and swallowing becomes difficult. He stops walking altogether, and although Changbin is sympathetic, he does look a bit annoyed. “Hyunjin, I can carry him if you can lead the way.”

He nods, sniffing, helping Minho loop his arms around Changbin’s neck and making sure that his legs are also tight enough around Changbin’s torso before turning away to wipe his eyes and lead the way. 

Felix runs up to Minho as soon as he sees him, and his touch must make a difference too—Hyunjin knows he’s not his Guide, but he can’t believe he forgot that how long and how they see each other makes a difference. While Felix had gone through that small puppy love crush phase (and it’s just a fact: they all did), but he’d grown out of it and now the two were close enough to be brothers. Minho probably did consider Felix to be his younger brother, come to think of it, only child that he was.

“Hyung, what are you feeling?” Felix asks immediately, helping him off Changbin’s back. Minho waves away the support, eyeing the bed in the corner of the training room suspiciously. 

“I can stand, I can stand. It’s just a lot right now.”

Felix frowns at this. “And the suppressants won’t work anymore.”

Huh? “Huh?” It’s Changbin who says it, although Hyunjin’s sure all three of them are thinking it.

“I found the files you were looking for,” he says. “Hyunjin, it’s worse than we thought. There’s no way to test whether someone is a Guide or not; only the Sentinel can tell.”

Minho scoffs at this, tugging Changbin down with him so that their youngest hyung is sitting between his legs. Minho hooks his chin over his shoulder and looks up at Hyunjin and Felix. “I could have told you that.”

Felix nods. “Right, but there’s a way to force the Sentinel to acknowledge the bond from the Guide’s side.”

“We don’t know who the Guide is though.” Changbin gives Minho a weird look as he’s speaking, noticing that he’s suddenly gone stiff. 

Ah, so Hyunjin  _ is  _ right. And Minho isn’t dense; he’s just avoiding it. 

Felix shrugs. “That’s not a problem. Out of all of us, we know who it isn’t. I went through the characteristics of Guide-Sentinel relationships, and I can confidently rule out some of us.”

Minho nods slowly, chin poking Changbin’s shoulder each time. Felix nods at that, holding up a screen, flicking his wrist so that the projection sits on the floor before sitting down too. Not wanting to be the only one standing, Hyunjin sits down next to him, lazily throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“There’s absolutely no way that it’s Seungmin,” Felix confirms easily. “Not that there really was any doubt about that, but you’re both too similar to be compatible that way. It’s not Innie either, because he hasn’t known you for long enough. And hyung, you were right about Hannie. Your dimensional signatures don’t resonate—although I have no idea how you managed to figure that out—and there’s the whole matter of how complicated your feelings for each other are.”

“If he were my Guide, we could have already known,” Minho mutters. “He’s just taking it too personally.”

“That’s only three of us though,” Hyunjin points out. “There’s no way it’s me, I’m pretty sure. No offense, Minho hyung, I’d love to be your Guide, but that’s just not it.”

Felix nods. “Correct. You guys honestly had a fairly high dimensional resonance, but it wasn’t the highest out of all of us, so I can safely say it’s not you. Chan hyung was the hardest honestly, because there was no dimensional resonance, and I’m not sure if that means it was a complete match or if it was complete dissonance.”

“It means that we’re close enough that any resonance is cancelled out,” Minho explains. “It can’t be Chan hyung either. That leaves you and Changbinnie.”

Right, just as Hyunjin has been predicting. Minho, oddly enough, doesn’t sound too surprised either.

Felix nods again, tapping the base of the screen so that the hologram dissipates. He slides it across the floor, knocking it into the panel and bathing the room in a periwinkle glow. “That’s the thing. Logically, I’ve known you the longest. I was the first one to see you. But that would also mean that you manifested at a far younger age than V did, which can’t be right either, because you would have felt the symptoms by then. And given how much we both knew about Sentinels, there’s no way we wouldn’t have figured it out.”

Minho whispers something softly to Changbin and Hyunjin watches as the younger of the two flushes and swats at his arm, whispering back threats darkly. Felix clears his throat. “Minho hyung, really, it makes the most sense that it’s Changbin hyung, except for one thing. He met you after Hannie did. That’s after me, Hyunjin, and Chan hyung. How is the resonance so strong?”

Changbin frowns, quickly looking back down again, but it does not go unnoticed. “No, what?”

He shakes his head to Felix’s question. “Ah, no it’s just that… Lix, you met hyung in the academy atrium, right? When you were looking for your roommate but then you found out it was Minho hyung?”

Felix nods slowly, brows furrowed and head tilted slightly as he tries to make sense of it. “I—yeah, that—it is what happened but I don’t get it—what does this have to do with anything?”

“And Hyunjin, you ran into Minho hyung when you guys were trying to steal the hovercraft but neither of you could agree on it—”

“—and we stole the hovercycles, yeah,” Hyunjin finishes, eyeing the abandoned screen and wondering how Felix had managed to aim with such precision. “Minho hyung was already racing by then. I remember Jisung came out to watch  _ our  _ second race because he was so mad at missing the first one.”

Changbin frowns. “He told you  _ that _ ?”

Hyunjin turns back to them. “Why, is that not what it was?”

“I saw the first race,” Changbin says instead. “Not the one where you guys raced each other—although we  _ both  _ saw that one too—but Minho hyung, remember?”

Felix is openly gaping at them at this point, leaning forward despite how his weight is balanced on his palms behind him. “What do you mean you guys met?”

“Ah,” Minho says slowly, drawing it out, tilting so that his words are pressed into Changbin’s shoulder instead. “This was before I even joined the academy. I was still with ARMY at the time, and they needed a distraction.”

Hyunjin scrambles to his feet, reaching over to grab the screen before tossing it to Felix. He sits back down where he had previously been and takes it back, pulling up an old record. “This was  _ you _ ?”

He remembers looking up to the racer who’d leaped off his hovercycle, done a flip over an academy bridge and landed back on the hovercycle while passing three other racers, but he never would have expected it to have been  _ Minho _ . Looking back, it makes perfect sense. Minho always talks about how he wasn’t anywhere near ready to be a Bureaucrat before he landed the backup gig, how his skillset was always a bit more chaotic and suited to other things. 

His natural and immediate affinity for hovercycle racing and that distinct style should have all clued him in. He’s almost embarrassed for not noticing it sooner. 

Minho hums affirmatively, smirking. “Yeah. I almost didn’t recognize Changbinnie without his lack of pointy weapon, but yeah. We talked.”

Changbin scoffs at this, hands linked around one knee that he bends up his chest, leaning back a little to nudge the older. “You asked me if it was hard, watching all these racers screw around, like I couldn’t tell you were one of them. You didn’t even wear a helmet, hyung.”

Ah, the other reason for Hyunjin’s embarrassment. In his defense, the video quality is poor, but the fact that Minho wasn’t even wearing a helmet should have clued him in.

Minho laughs softly. Hyunjin notices that he seems more relaxed, and despite the suppressant having worn off, doesn’t seem to be too overwhelmed yet. Maybe he was right about Changbin being the cure to that. “Yah, Binnie, you were just staring at me the entire time.”

“I said that it was okay,” he huffs. “That’s not really the point though.” The second sentence clearly finally hits. “ _ And I wasn’t staring at you;  _ I told you, it was your _ bike.” _

Oh, it definitely wasn’t, but Hyunjin certainly is intrigued by their relationship. As far as he knows, they only really got close when Changbin did Minho’s tattoo, but to know that they’ve got this kind of history is… well, interesting, to say the least.

Felix blinks. “That would mean—”

Hyunjin cuts him off. “Oh, come on. It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what y'all think of it so far! i'd love to know what your theories are; what's hyunjin thinking of and what went down between minho and jisung? hmmm we'll see
> 
> [visuals](https://fallindeepthefic.carrd.co/) [twitter](https://twitter.com/Y0UKANSTAY)


	5. [dawn]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, you’re taking too long!”
> 
> “If I’m so slow, then why don’t you just say it?”
> 
> “Fine!” Minho throws his hands in the air.
> 
> Changbin nods affirmatively. “Fine!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little shorter and a little earlier because it just felt like the best point the end the chapter, but i promise it will be back to its usual length from the next chapter!
> 
> (unedited because i'm tired and i wanted to get this out for y'all; i'll try to edit it in the next few days!!)

When Chan finds Felix and Hyunjin curled up on the floor of the storage room, Hyunjin’s hair still damp from his shower and Felix’s shirt on backwards, he isn’t too surprised. He knows that Felix was going through the files to find whatever he could to help Minho.

What Chan is surprised by, is the way Minho is curled around Changbin, with the younger’s hand still resting over Minho’s eyes and Minho’s hand around his back. He isn’t sure when they showered and came back, since he was busy relaying the rest of the information to Seungmin, Jeongin, and Jisung, but also because he didn’t want to overwhelm Minho. Besides, in terms of whose physical contact has helped the most, it has definitely been these three, although Changbin is the most effective, significantly.

He smiles fondly, gently shaking Hyunjin and Felix’s shoulders to wake them up, reminding the two groggy boys that there were perfectly comfortable beds they could go sleep in. He isn’t too concerned about them getting lost or going in the wrong direction—the way back to the common area that branches off to the rooms they’ve turned into living quarters is straightforward—but they’re still groggy enough for him to worry about them tripping or hurting themselves in their sleepy haze, so he has them wait, leaning against each other like sleepy puppies.

He turns away, still smiling as he watches Felix snuggle against Hyunjin’s front. Hyunjin’s normally more averse to skinship, only really comfortable with it when he’s the one seeking it out, but he’s easily persuaded when he’s half asleep, apparently.

He doesn’t really want to wake Minho and Changbin up, not just because of how adorably cozy they look curled around each other like that—although they definitely do; if Hyunjin and Felix look like puppies standing up and fighting to stay awake, Minho and Changbin look like actually puppies, especially with how long Minho’s hair has grown—but also because of how peaceful Minho looks without that constant haunted look about him.

He wishes there was more he could do to help, but he isn’t even Minho’s Guide. Heck, he doesn’t even know who Minho’s Guide is. His assumptions had been Jisung, but apparently those two had gotten into an argument, which was rare to begin with, but Minho seemed to actually be holding a grudge this time, which was unheard of, and Jisung seemed unwilling to talk about it, which was the only thing that seemed right about the whole thing.

He stands there for a minute longer, before leaning over to wake Changbin up first, knowing that Changbin will be able to wake Minho up gently. Unfortunately, he forgets to account for exactly how deep of a sleeper Changbin is, and ends up waking Minho up first. Oddly enough, he isn’t upset, he just says he’ll carry Changbin, which Chan would not have agreed to if it weren’t for his enhanced strength.

Still… “If you’re still tired, I can just wake him up.”

Minho shakes his head. “Even if I wasn’t tired, I’d probably be able to lift him easily,” he says. “That’s just the enhanced strength. It’s faster too, since there’s no way you’ll be able to wake him up.” Minho looks back down at Changbin, leaning over to trail his nails over the tattoo on the inside of his bicep, touch feather light and expression so  _ fond  _ that Chan feels like he’s intruding.

Apparently, Hyunjin shares the sentiment, if his emphasized cough is any indicator. “Hyung, hurry up. ‘Lix is sleepy.”

At the mention of Felix, Minho pulls his hand away, dragging Changbin onto his back. Despite being asleep, the younger still curls up, wrapping his legs around Minho’s waist.

Chan shrugs. “That’s that, I guess.” He leads them back to the common area, a hand on Changbin’s back and Hyunjin’s to keep them steady. He helps Felix into bed first before leading the other three into the pink room.

Hyunjin practically throws himself onto the bed as soon as Minho sets Changbin down, curling up like an overgrown puppy between the two of them. It’s honestly the most peaceful he’s seen the three of them, especially together, and he wants to take a picture, but he’s sure they’ll all move the minute he leaves the room, so he settles for tucking the sheet over them, patting Changbin and Hyunjin’s heads. He lingers on Minho’s hair, tugging the ends slightly.

Minho nuzzles further into his hand, and Chan presses his lips to keep from accidentally cooing or something. Minho never acts this cute, not on purpose. He waits until Minho relaxes completely, boneless under his hand before leaving the room, closing the panel behind him with a soft click.

“Oh, they’re asleep?” 

He nods, rolling the sleeves of his hoodie back up again. “Yeah, Felix told me they were trying to go through as much information as possible. I only hope the extra space helped.”

Jisung nods politely, although it’s clear that isn’t why he was waiting there in the first place. Chan pauses and waits for him to say something, but when Jisung just shifts awkwardly in place, he sighs and decides to take things into his own hands. “What, Jisung?”

Looking caught, the younger shakes his head exaggeratedly. “What, me?”

Chan gives him a look, raising his eyebrow and making it explicitly clear that he is not buying it. Jisung scowls, sighing aggressively. 

“I just don’t get it?” He crosses his arms. “How does Minho hyung know that I’m not his Guide? We’re close, we’ve known each other for super long, and I thought hyung liked me. Why can’t I be his Guide?”

And Chan thinks he gets it, all these unresolved feelings brought back by something that was there before it all started.

“Jisungie, it’s not that simple,” he says, but Jisung isn’t having it. He’s started, ready to go, and absolutely will continue.

“No, it’s almost like Minho hyung doesn’t  _ want  _ me to be his Guide,” he rants. “I know we never talked about things, but maybe hyung still likes me?”

Chan almost scoffs at this. He knows Jisung’s upset, but he’s forgotten how absurd his theories are once he’s started.

“Yeah, that makes sense. He must just be too embarrassed to say it—Chan hyung, why aren’t you saying anything?”

Chan purses his lips, looking at him pointedly. Jisung visibly deflates. “Hyung, you really don’t have to say it, I know it isn’t true but—”

“It’s easier if you just get it out of your system,” Chan finishes, preventing Jisung from saying something he’ll regret later. “Jisungie, Minho hyung doesn’t get to choose his Guide. I don’t think he’d even choose to be a Sentinel, if he had that choice.”

The second statement is a bold presumption, but despite the attention Minho garnered as a street racer, he’s never actively sought out attention for himself. He’s always preferred to let his actions speak for themselves, and if that brings him attention, then he doesn’t mind it either.

Jisung frowns. “Wait, what do you mean he doesn’t get to choose? I thought we knew that because all of us were so close to us, it could be any of us. It just seemed obvious that it’s me because Minho hyung and I are so close.”

Chan isn’t sure if this is progress or not, but at least Jisung has calmed down a bit. “His situation is a bit… unique, to say the least. At least from what you were reading about. Remember? The Guide was the one who awoke him as a Sentinel.”

Jisung nods slowly, mulling the words over. “But what does that have to do with me not being his Guide?”

To be entirely honest, Chan doesn’t really know the connections and finer details the way Hyunjin and Changbin do. After today, he’s sure even Felix knows more, and the others would probably have updated them if they hadn’t been so tired. He wants to say as much to Jisung, but he knows it wouldn’t alleviate the situation. “Ah, well, it’s more that if you were his Guide, then you guys would have acknowledged the bond by now.”

“What does that mean?” Chan starts walking again before he answers, suddenly a bit hungry. The kitchen lights him as he switches them on, followed by the soft padding of Jisung’s footsteps behind him. 

“As far as I know, the bond is acknowledged by strong emotions, or if the Sentinel knows who it is,” Chan explains, pouring in the water slowly as he stirs the powdered contents of the packet. He thinks Jisung might get it now, having experienced a kind of strong emotions of his own. “Jisung.”

The younger of the two sighs. “Does everyone already know? I thought it was just Hyunjin and Jeongin.”

Chan raises an eyebrow, pausing his stirring to look at him. “Does everyone know what?”

“That I wanted to talk to Minho hyung about things but can’t figure out how,” he says. “Hyunjin keeps telling me to just talk to him, but Innie told me I should figure out what I feel now, before I do that.”

They both have valid points, especially taking into account Jisung and Minho’s personalities. Minho’s not the type of person to overthink things the way Jisung is, but when he has too much time to think, Jisung’s more likely to come up with an outlandish explanation and actually believe it.

Like right now.

“It’s not the best time to talk about that, honestly,” Chan muses, pouring the sludgy mixture into the 3d printer. “I mean, with the whole Sentinel thing, and what we found in the chips so far? I think we’ll all be way busier than we thought we would be.”

“Felix probably knew.”

Out of all of them, Felix probably did already know. “What do you think you’re feeling, then?”

Oh, he’s so going to regret getting involved. There’s a reason he’s stayed out of their issues for so long and it’s not just because Minho told him he was over it.

“Ah, we never really told each other we liked each other, you know?”

No, Chan most certainly does not know. It’s hard enough to spend time with Felix these days, where is he going to be thinking about feelings? “There’s nothing wrong with that, though.”

Jisung shrugs, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “He never said anything either, but we both knew. We just never did anything about it. And then it felt like we didn’t like each other anymore because we never said anything. It didn’t even last that long, but…”

Chan takes the watery noodles from the printer with a grimace and a mental note to add less water next time. “But?”

“It still feels like it never went away sometimes. But it’s not like that either. What do you call it, residual feelings?”

That’s definitely not it. “The way you’re saying it, there’s two theories.” Seungmin’s voice is hushed, but loud enough for them to hear it clearly.

Chan breathes a sigh of relief and shovels a bite of the noodles into his mouth before Jisung speaks again. Thank god for Seungmin and his rational brain.

“Two?” Jisung’s turned his attention entirely away from Chan, but he’s still a little interested, so he waits to see what advice Seungmin has. 

Seungmin nods. “Yeah. Either you never liked him like that and it was all extremely platonic, and that’s why you thought it was mutual, or you think you like him now because you guys never talked it out then. This was back at the academy, right?”

“What do you mean just me? If I never liked him like that, then he didn’t either, right?”

Seungmin gives him a weird look before shaking his head. “No? He might have still liked you or he might have never liked you at all. None of us here know what he was or is feeling. You could have just been projecting.”

Yikes, Chan thinks. Even for Seungmin, that last bit was a bit harsh. Still, Jisung looks like he’s thinking it over, like a reasonable person.

“But we kissed!”

Well, up until that. Although, wait— “What do you mean you guys kissed?” Seungmin nods at Chan’s question.

Jisung has the decency to look a bit sheepish. “Ah, well, it’s just—”

Seungmin raises an eyebrow. “Hannie.”

“Right, right. Uh, well, it was back at the academy.”

Chan nods slowly. “And?”

“Andhesawhisadvisorandsaidheneededtoavoidthemanddidn’twanttogetcaughtsohesaidhewasgoingtotrysomething.”

“What? Han-ah, slow down.” Chan agrees with the sentiment wholeheartedly, even setting down the cup of mush that was once noodles. 

“And he saw his advisor and said he needed to avoid them and didn’t want to get caught so he said he was going to try something,” Jisung repeats dutifully, slow enough that they can actually understand what he’s saying. “So he pushed me against the wall on the side and kissed me.”

Chan winces. If this is what’s kept Jisung from letting go of Minho, it’s weak, to say the least. Minho most likely just wanted to get away from his advisor and had planned on using the kiss as his way out. Either that, or  _ Minho  _ was the one who liked Jisung from the beginning and shot his shot with the advisor as his cover. Knowing Minho, they’re both equally likely.

“I mean, we all know how hot he is, but this was—”

“Yeah, yup, no need to continue; we definitely get the point,” Chan cuts in, eyes widening at Jisung’s train of thought. “You never mentioned it before.”

Jisung nods. “Oh yeah, that’s because I forgot.”

Seungmin facepalms, and Chan’s tempted to do so too, if not for wanting to not make Jisung feel bad. “You… forgot?”

His thoughts exactly. Once again, thank you Seungmin. 

“I mean, yeah? It’s been three years since the academy. How am I supposed to remember that?”

Yeah, Jisung, how would you remember someone you’re convinced you used to like and apparently still like kissing you? What an absurd thing to do.

Seungmin simply shakes his head at this. “Are you sure you used to like him? It really sounds super platonic at this point.”

“No, he was a really good kisser.”

Chan picks up his noodles again, deciding to remove himself from this conversation altogether. There’s really no reason for him to stay, especially if Jisung is as confused as he is. He just needs time to figure things out, not his friends telling him how he feels, although Seungmin’s certainly helping guide his train of thought onto the right track.

  
  


“Hyung?” Chan nods, still typing on the holographic keyboard. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” He closes the screen and turns, a little surprised to find Changbin standing there, but after the events of the day, not really.

Changbin crosses his arms, gesturing at the screen with his chin. “How are we supposed to tell him about that?”

It’s in the way he’s standing, defensive posture and worried tone of voice that makes Chan smile. Ever since Minho manifested and his dependency on physical contact increased, Changbin’s been so protective and attentive of him. It’s almost adorable, how his first thought is Minho, these days.

He does have a point though, in this situation at least. “We should talk to Felix first and see if he can think of anything?”

Changbin exhales slowly. “Felix isn’t a doctor though.”

Chan nods, tapping his fingers against the window sill. He isn’t sure how Changbin knew to find him up here, in this excuse for an observatory, but he’s a little fed up with the bunker. They’ve been here for a little over a week now, and today’s the most progress they have made. “Hyunjin’s already scared, though. And I don’t really want to scare Felix with this either.”

Changbin raises his eyebrows. “If that’s your way of saying we can handle this on our own, here’s your reminder that neither of us know nearly enough about Sentinels or Guides or biology to figure things out.”

Chan pockets the screen, glancing out the window. It’s still late enough into the night that there isn’t much visibility, but every once in a while, the reflection of the dome catches on one of the android parts. “No, of course not. But there’s no way we can tell the others, it’ll only scare them.”

“What’ll scare them?” Chan startles, turning around to find Minho leaning on Changbin from behind, one arm draped over his shoulders and the other curled around his upper arm. He rests his head on Changbin’s shoulder, moving with him when Changbin uncrosses his arms and shoves them into his pockets. 

Chan raises an eyebrow at Changbin, who steadfastly avoids his gaze. “That includes you, Minho.”

Minho raises an eyebrow back, tilting his head slightly, unimpressed. Chan presses his lips together, holding his gaze until it gets to be too much. Blinking, he shakes his head. 

“Why are you even up?” Minho gives him a look, making it clear that he hasn’t forgotten their previous line of thought. 

Not that he expected any less.

Minho nuzzles into Changbin’s side, the younger looking down. “Hyunjin got too hot and Changbinnie wasn’t there.”

Chan’s surprised at how open he’s being about the dependency, especially since Minho typically didn’t seek out physical contact so easily or reveal his weaknesses so openly. The night makes everyone honest, even those who once hid in it.

“How’d you get here though?” Changbin finally speaks, although it’s a lot quieter than it had been before, softer, maybe?

Ah.

Chan almost smiles. It really is adorable the way Changbin cares for Minho. Although, he is curious about his question too.

Minho shrugs, pressing his nose against Changbin’s neck and smiling faintly as he squirms at the cold intrusion. “Binnie got up here too, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, but I looked in every single room before I even remembered this place.”

Chan nods. “You don’t look awake enough to have looked everywhere.”

Minho hums. “I didn’t.” He leaves it at that, lifting his head to look back at Chan. “What are you hiding?”

It sends a chill down his spine, how direct the question is and how cold it sounds. This is Minho, former Bureaucrat and ARMY, skilled at making agents crack with a single sentence. He can see how too, being on the receiving end of it.

“Minho hyung, do you want to die?”

Well. That certainly isn’t how Chan would have gone about it, but Changbin does sound far more serious than he does when he’s screwing around with their younger friends. Minho raises an eyebrow, but before he can say anything, Changbin turns around to face him, still caught in the circle of his arms. “No?”

“Hyung, seriously?”

It’s in the way Changbin’s gaze is fierce as he looks at Minho, words laced with the seriousness of the situation, in their close proximity to each, the way Minho’s gaze keeps dipping down and back to his eyes. It’s like they have forgotten he’s here, really, and Chan wants to interrupt and remind them that there’s a very important issue here that they’re trying to figure out. 

Minho scoffs and breaks their eye contact. He doesn’t drop his arms though, even as he turns to look out the window behind Changbin. “What do you want me to say? It’s not as simple as you think it is. Hyunjin keeps saying to just do it, but… Ah, it’s really not that simple.”

Actually, Chan is just lost at this point. Did Changbin already talk to Minho about it? Or does he already know? And since when did  _ Hyunjin  _ know about this too? Their team medic is really wholly involved and intertwined with everything.

“No—what does Hyunjin have to do with this?” Chan finally interrupts, although much doesn’t change because of it. Changbin and Minho do turn to look at him, but they’re still as close to each other as they were before. 

Minho shakes his head, bangs falling over his eyes. Changbin’s eyes follow the movement, hand reaching up to brush them aside, but stopping when Minho moves his head again.

“It’s not—forget it,” Minho mumbles. “That’s not even important. Hyung, what are you so worried about?”

Personally, Chan is worried about plenty of things. There’s obviously, understandably, plenty to be worried about, but he knows what Minho means.

“Minho, you need to find your Guide,” Chan says slowly, gauging the tension in the room. “It’s not just about helping with the sensory overload, it’s about what the lack of a tether in the eighth dimension does to you.”

Minho sighs, stepping away from Changbin to tear a frustrated hand through his hair. “You don’t understand. It’s really not that simple.”

The scenery outside looks a bit lighter, a faded navy rather than the dark black of the night he remembers from when he came up here. It brightens the cylindrical room slightly, but not anywhere near enough to be morning. If he squints, he thinks he can see the outline of the protective dome over them though. 

“Then explain it to us, hyung,” Changbin mutters. “If it’s so complicated, then you can at least try to explain it, right? We’ll listen to you”

Minho shakes his head, clearly frustrated. “It doesn’t matter if I know who my Guide is, because unless he acknowledges the bond first, I can’t do anything.”

Chan stares at him, the words swimming before they click. “You know who it is?”

“Sure,” he scoffs. “Yeah, I know who it is. But until he does too, there’s nothing I can do about it. The eighth dimension attraction parallel theory you’re worried about? There’s nothing I can do about it. You might want to close the screens downstairs too, if you’re so worried about the others finding out. It’s right there.”

Changbin stares at him, expression unreadable. “You know?”

Minho raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “That is what I said, yeah.”

He’s colder now, words almost clipped. Chan isn’t sure what to say, because Felix’s data confirms that there’s no chance he’s Minho’s Guide, but it also doesn’t definitely point one of them out to be his Guide either. Hyunjin, Felix, and Changbin all have major indicators that they would be compatible. Even Jisung had a huge spike in one of the categories, even if he wasn’t a possibility anymore.

Changbin is still staring at him when Minho shakes his head and leaves, footsteps echoing in the metal walls around them. Chan glances at him before following Minho. He guesses that Changbin does snap out of it, since he follows Chan shortly after. 

“Minho, wait,” Chan calls out, reaching out to pull Minho back. He’s surprised with Minho spinning around—and he mentally prepares himself to be shoved back—but Minho only wraps his arms tightly around Chan’s torso, eyes squeezed shut. Changbin practically crashes into his back, sending the two of them rocking forward slightly. “Minho…?”

He doesn’t say anything, and Chan would think he’s asleep if it wasn’t for his erratic breathing. Behind them, Changbin inhales sharply. “Hyung?”

“Can we not talk about that right now?” Minho finally says, voice shakier than he’s ever heard it before. “Just—I know, that it’s important and that you’re worried, but it’s. Can we just go back to the way things were before we ended up in this stupid bunker?”

Oh.

Chan hugs Minho back, and despite him being taller, he feels small in his hold, with the way that he’s trembling. He gets it though, he misses being able to hang out and not have to worry about something or the other constantly. He misses their nightly convenience store hangouts, with the three of them just laughing and messing up the store under the neon lights.

Changbin joins them, albeit a little awkwardly, but once he gets into it, he’s practically squeezing both of them until they’re slapping his arm to get him to let go, laughing slightly. When he does, Chan catches sight of the smile playing at his lips as he watches Minho giggle and mentally thanks Changbin for cheering him up.

“I know,” Minho says, when he manages to calm down from their laughing fit. “I know we can’t just ignore it, but it’s nice to pretend.”

His quiet words ring loud in the hallway, an echo chamber for their racing thoughts. Chan hums in agreement. He can’t promise that they won’t bring it up, but he can promise to be a little more subtle about how he does.

“You can ask, you know.” Minho lets go of Chan, brushing his hair from his eyes and muttering something about needing to tie it if it keeps growing like this. “Or actually, you can guess.”

“Guess?”

He’s smirking now, like he knows something they don’t. And, technically, he does, but it’s still a bit unnerving to see that. “Yeah. Who you think my Guide is.” He’s too smug now.

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Do you really think we won’t be able to guess?”

“Ah, we have time for that,” Chan interjects, though he’s just as curious. This is Minho they’re talking about; there’s definitely some kind of twist. “As long as you two can figure things out, that’s all that matters.”

Changbin raises his eyebrows at Chan. “Does that mean you’re not going to guess?”

Actually, that had been his attempt to convince them to drop the subject, but it looks like he’s the only one that feels that way. He sighs and waves his hand at that, not caring if Changbin takes his guess or not.

“You only get one guess anyway,” Minho points out. “Hyunjin says it’s obvious, so I am curious if he’s right or not.”

Chan shrugs, closing the panel to the hallway behind him, wincing when his shoe scrapes against the grate. “Felix?”

Minho says nothing, sidestepping the grate Chan had just walked over and looking at Changbin expectantly. “Changbinnie?”

“There’s a right answer though,” he says instead. “It’s not Felix.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, tilting his head back and forth, deliberating. “It’s not, yeah.”

Chan gapes at them, stopping so suddenly that Changbin almost trips. “It’s not?”

He admittedly only thought it was Felix because of how insistent Felix was about Minho being family, and okay, that had hurt, but it did support his theory that Felix was Minho’s Guide.

“With how much both of us know about Sentinels, we would have figured it out way sooner. Probably even sooner than if it had been Hannie.”

That’s a good point too, Chan thinks as he settles onto the common room seating, Changbin and Minho each claiming his opposite ends. “It’s not Hyunjin.”

As Minho agrees, he wonders if this is based on the statistics Felix had found or if Changbin is just shooting his shot in the dark. He has no idea who that leaves, but he thinks this is a turning point of some kind. 

Minho is focused on Changbin entirely, looking as fierce as when he was racing. Changbin is looking back with equal fervor, and the charged tension in the room is palpable. 

Their staring contest lasts a minute longer before Changbin breaks it, incredulous. “Wait, actually? You’re not messing with me?”

Chan has definitely missed something here.

The bench creaks suspiciously when Minho shifts to stretch a leg out over Chan’s leg, the other one folded with his wrists resting on it. “Why would I mess with you about something like this?”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean. Hyung, it doesn’t make sense.”

Minho pauses, tilting his head carefully. “It doesn’t?” The question comes out flat, almost as if he’s upset with Changbin for his answer. Changbin, unfortunately doesn’t pick up on it, or if he does, chooses to ignore it.

“You know why it doesn’t. I wouldn’t do something like that to you,” he continues earnestly. “Not on purpose, hyung. You know me. And it’s been so long, we’ve all spent so much time together.”

Minho shrugs. “I never said it was on purpose. But the fact that you never considered it says a lot.”

The fact that Changbin never considered what, exactly? Chan has no idea. He thinks back, wondering when Minho and Changbin first met. He remembers Changbin meeting him in the dorms again, complaining about an irritating racer who thought he was everything, but also being unreasonably good looking.

  
  


_ “The nerve, really, who did he think he was? Did he think he was someone important or something? No, he’s just some random insurgent on a bike, and he thought he was doing something by saying that, huh? Well, I’ll show him—” _

_ “Changbin?” Chan turned from his desk, setting down his stylus with a light thunk. “Hey, are you okay?” _

_ Changbin muttered something inaudibly, continuing to grumble under his breath as he tossed his screen onto his bunk, muttering even as he climbed up the ladder, now cursing his luck for getting stuck with the top bunk. “Hyung, can we switch bunks?” _

_ Not that this was what that was all about anyway, but Chan agrees easily. “I mean, sure? What’s up with you though?” _

_ Changbin scowled. “I met one of the racers.” _

_ Chan raised an eyebrow. “It would be cool to recruit one of them. Think of what 3racha could do if we had a racer on our side.” _

_ “Yeah, well. Not that one. He was weird. And hot. I guess you really can’t be both.” _

_ Ah, so that’s what this was about? Changbin didn’t typically get so worked up over racers, so it must have been something different about this one he had run into. _

_ Chan turned around, the swiveling chair sending him rotating a little too far to the left before he stopped it with his foot. “What do you mean, he was weird?” _

_ “He asked me if it was hard, with all these racers,” Changbin muttered. “What kind of a question is that?” _

_ That was interesting, actually. “You think he was part of some sort of resistance or something? Our ninjas don’t have such a wide range, but ARMY…” _

_ “No, don’t tell me that weirdo is part of ARMY,” Changbin whined, punching his pillow so violently it fell off the bunk. He continued to stare at it until Chan got up to pick up and threw it back up to him. “Hyung, we’ve been trying to recruit a racer for so long, we can wait a little longer, can’t we? We need a medic too, and you don’t see me chasing after one of our friends to become one.” _

_ Chan raised his eyebrows. “But if he’s a racer and ARMY, that could be doubly helpful, right?” _

_ He knew Changbin also knew that, and was just being unreasonable for whatever reason right now, but he didn’t doubt that Changbin would figure it out too. Probably. Hopefully. He could be a little stubborn when he was upset, and he did seem a bit upset right then. _

_ Changbin hugged the pillow to his chest, sighing. “That’s the thing. This guy would probably be a good addition to the team. He’s good at getting their attention. But he doesn’t even wear a helmet or anything—he’s a little too good at drawing attention too.” _

_ Chan shrugged. “That’s not really a bad thing. If he was with ARMY—and that’s a pretty big if, since we don’t actually know if he is or not—then he probably knew what he was getting himself into when he joined. I’m sure he’d understand if we were to recruit him.” _

_ “If he is with ARMY though, why would he want to join us?”  _

_ Chan was really tempted to climb up there and smack Changbin with the pillow. All the ARMY operatives they had encountered in the past avoided making any kind of ground contact—especially the racers. The fact that this one had come down, and talked only to Changbin, of all people, spoke volumes. “We don’t know if he is, but I’m sure we could persuade him. I mean, working with 3racha would be a little more personal than such a large network. And it’s not like our network is small either, we’re just a smaller organization.” _

_ “Keep talking about that racer and I might think you’re just interested because he was hot,” Chanbin mumbled, but he didn’t sound as upset as he had when he’d stormed into the room. _

_ Chan was tempted to point out that the same could apply to Changbin, who had been the one to actually meet him, not Minho, but he figured it was a moot point. The chances of them seeing that racer again were fairly low, if not none. _

_ He settled for shrugging noncommittally. He was waiting for Felix, but it wasn’t like that meant he couldn’t get into dating or anything. “I mean, I’ll take your word for it. We probably won’t see him again anyway.” _

_ For some reason, Changbin deflated slightly at this, as if the thought of not seeing the very person he had been complaining about was disappointing. Chan shrugged again. He really would never understand Changbin. _

  
  


Looking back, he did turn out to be wrong about never seeing that racer again. After all, he found out Minho was Felix’s roommate less than a month later, during which time Hyunjin had taken up hovercycle racing, and both Jisung and Changbin had seen their races. In reality, he had been one of the last people to find out about Minho, and that had been far before he even found out Changbin’s mysterious racer, Jisung’s hot hovercycle guy, and Hyunjin’s archnemesis were the same person.

Not to mention Minho’s leg is currently thrown over his thighs as he engages in a staredown with Changbin, who looks unsure but is still following Minho’s lead. 

“Alright, what is up with the two of you?” He pats Minho’s leg to get his attention, but he only takes his time, waiting for Changbin to look away first before he turns to Chan. 

“Nothing,” Changbin murmurs, looking to the side. That’s definitely not the right thing to say either.

“Really? So that’s just  _ nothing  _ to you?” Whatever it is that they are talking about, Chan thinks it’s pretty clear that it’s not ‘nothing’ to Changbin, but he gets the feeling Minho just wants to hear him say it.

Changbin glares at Minho properly this time. “Hyung, what do you want me to do?”

Minho shrugs, leaning his head against the back of the couch, hair falling back over his eyes. He looks younger like this, less invulnerable Bureaucrat of them eight and more Lee Minho, Chan’s oldest dongsaeng. “I can’t tell you what to do.”

Changbin deflates at this, almost pouting. “Hyung, I want to help you though.”

Minho sighs, closing his eyes as he plays with Chan’s hand, fingers tracing abstract patterns over it. “Then, do it.”

It’s easier said than done, Chan thinks, whatever it is they’re struggling to say. Perhaps the words don’t come so easily to either of them, but he thinks there is a reason why they are still thinking about it. He does wish they would just tell him, so that he could help too, but maybe he can’t help with this?

He risks asking exactly what it is after much deliberation. “What are you guys talking about?”

Minho lifts his head up to gesture at Changbin with his chin. “Ask him.” He flops back into the couch, looking more tired than he had when he’d found them in the observatory. Chan settles for holding his hand and stroking his shin with his other hand, hoping that the contact will seep through his pants or something. 

He turns to Changbin expectantly. “So?”

“I don’t even know if I’m right,” Changbin begins slowly. “But if I understood you correctly—”

“Yah, Changbin-ah, just say it.”

Changbin bristles, slouching against the couch’s armrest. “I’m just saying I’m not sure if I’m right, I’m getting there!”

“Well, you’re taking too long!”

“If I’m so slow, then why don’t you just say it?”

“Fine!” Minho throws his hands in the air.

Changbin nods affirmatively. “Fine!”

Chan clears his throat hesitantly, opening his mouth to ask exactly what they just figured out, but Minho interrupts him before he can get to it, sighing dramatically as if it's the most obvious thing and Chan is slow for not getting it.

“Changbin is my Guide.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so... a lot of interesting things happened here hmm? i know y'all were curious about when minho and changbin were going to figure things out, and i have to say that they still have a ways to go... i am curious to see what you guys think of everything that went down though; i mean, we got a flashback, minho finally saying it, and jisung thinking *things* so... let me know what you think in the comments! i honestly love reading about what you guys think so thank you for the comments so far!


	6. [regulate]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii so. it's been a while. in all honesty, i did have this chapter planned out, but i just wasn't able to write it because my laptop is uh... malfunctioning? the cursor keeps freezing and disappearing and glitching and it just wasn't working in general, so i had to finish the last 5k or so on my phone, which was kind of a pain because of how time consuming it was, but! the chapter is finally out!! 
> 
> there's a lot that goes down in this chapter, but i just wanted to put a slight warning for violence? it's not graphic my any means, and really isn't described in too much detail, but this is a pg13 fic, so maybe imagine some pg13 scenes?
> 
> that's all for me though, enjoy the chapter!!

In a way, Seungmin isn’t surprised to see their hyungs sleeping on the common area seating arrangement. He is a little surprised that Chan hasn’t already woken up, but with the way they are all piled over each other, it probably would be hard enough for him to move his hand, let alone get up. 

Still, just to be sure that Chan isn’t just sitting there waiting for the other two to get up, like the inherently good person he is, Seungmin leans over. “Chan hyung?”

When he gets no response, he smiles. Of course it’s only Minho and Changbin that can put Chan to sleep like that. Even Felix still complains that it’s nearly impossible to get Chan to get enough rest when he’s too absorbed in his work. 

He checks on the security smoke screen he and Jeongin had set up the night before to make sure that no one had picked up on their presence in the bunker yet. At first glance, everything looks fine.

But on a second glance, it looks like there are android-type heat signatures in the tunnels that connect to the bunker. He doesn’t want to alarm everyone if it isn’t what he thinks it is, so he slips into Jisung and Chan’s room to wake Jisung up. “Hannie, I need you to come look at something.”

Jisung, who is nowhere near amicable in the mornings, grunts something which Seungmin takes to mean, ‘sure, Seungmin, I’ll do whatever you want.’ He slips back into his room with Jeongin and Felix again, shaking Felix awake. If he’s right, it won’t hurt to have their best strategist take a look at the schematics and plan a way out.

“Seungminnie?” Felix’s voice in the mornings is even deeper than it normally is, which puts it somewhere in the general vicinity of the Mariana Trench. Seungmin thinks it wouldn’t register on a decibel meter if he were talking quietly because of how low it is. Felix hugs his arm to his chest even as Seungmin tries to wake up, wincing when he opens his eyes.

“Felix, there’s something you need to see.” That has him awake in a flash, even if he is still rubbing his eyes blearily. 

“What happened?” 

Seungmin shakes his head, finger to his lips as he glances over to check that Jeongin is still sleeping. “Shhh! I’ll tell you when Hannie gets there too.”

He half drags Felix back up to the observatory where the makeshift smokescreen is, surprised to find Jisung up there already. “What’s up?”

Jisung ignores Felix’s greeting, addressing Seungmin entirely. “Those are androids.”

Felix drops his hand, which he had previously lifted in a half wave half salute type gesture. “Androids? Aren’t there plenty of androids outside?”

Seungmin nods. “It’s the wasteland though; there isn’t a single functioning android down there though. These are high functioning ones, and their signature matches the Bureau’s highest level of android initiatives.”

“Right,” Felix nods, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “If they have resorted to those androids, then there’s no way they don’t know we have a Sentinel with us. Best case scenario one is that they’re just looking for a Bureaucrat deserter. Best case scenario two is that they are just trying to recruit a Sentinel.”

Honestly, Seungmin doesn’t see how either of these are best case scenarios, since they’re all stuck here regardless. Jisung types over the panel, blocking the paths so that the androids won’t be able to get past a certain point.

“The worst case scenario is that they are looking for Minho hyung, a Bureaucrat deserter and quite possibly the strongest Sentinel of this generation.”

Well, if that’s the case, Seungmin will take the other two situations over what Felix just said. Any day. 

Jisung raises his head from the screen. “Hyung said they were tracking him; does that mean that they knew before we did?”

There’s a frightening thought absolutely no one needed to hear, but thank you for that Jisung. Seungmin thinks there’s no way it can get any worse than that, right up until Felix opens his mouth to do just that.

“That’s a valid possibility,” he says, ruffling his hair so it isn’t falling in his eyes. “The Bureau could have been keeping an eye on Minho hyung just to see which side he would turn to when he figured it out. Or they could have been accelerating the process themselves, way back at the academy. You said he had the shortest entrance exam period, right?”

Seungmin gapes at both of them. All these theories are one, counterproductive, and two, not helping their morale in any way? 

“We can come back and unpack all that later,” he cuts in brusquely. “We need a plan for how we’re going to deal with the androids.”

Felix winces, eyes fixed on the map as he looks over Jisung’s shoulder. “Yeah, you’re not going to like that.”

Seungmin would like to point out that he already does not like what they’ve said so far, but he doesn’t think it will help them in any way, so he abstains. “What’s your plan?”

Felix raises his eyebrows, mouthing the word ‘plan’ to himself. “We split up.”

That is definitely a disastrous plan and Seungmin already does not like it. He’s heard three words.

Fortunately, Jisung looks just as apprehensive about it. “You want us to… split up?”

“Yeah,” Felix sighs, eyes still glued to the map. “It’s definitely not ideal, but it would allow us to evade their heat scanners better.”

For that though; as far as Seungmin knows, and this is only the technical aspect of things; they would need to split up into groups of two, which would mean they would end up basically defenseless if the androids were to catch them. His worries must show on his face, because Felix is waving his hand and shaking his head.

“We would originally split into pairs to make it through the emergency tubes. Chan hyung and Innie should go to the first pair on the right, and Hyunjinnie and Seungminnie, you two would take the mirrored pair on the left.” Felix sighs, glancing back at the screen. “Minho hyung and I would take the other pair on the left and Changbin hyung and Jisungie, you two would take the remaining pair on the right.”

Seungmin follows the logic soundly, picking up his own screen to map out what Felix is saying to provide a visual for the others. Felix smiles gratefully at him, gesturing at the two opposite tubes. “Here’s where things get a little messy. Minho hyung’s tube and my tube would arrive at the same place as Jisung’s and Changbin hyung’s tube, and Chan hyung, Innie, Hyunjinnie, and you would all arrive at the same place.

“At that point, we have to split back up into the same pairs to take the next set of tubes. This time, the network gets even more complicated. Minho hyung’s tube and Jisung’s tube would end up in the same place. Mine and Changbin hyung’s would end up in the same place. Hyunjin and Chan hyung, and then you and Innie.”

He’s right, it is a complicated network. “That’s still four different checkpoints though. How do we all reconnect?”

Felix exhales slowly, finally looking up from the screen to stare out at the barren wasteland instead. “That’s the hardest part. It makes the most sense for Hyunjin to be with Minho hyung, just in case anything happens, but it’s not totally possible. Seungmin and Innie would be the closest to you and Minho hyung.”

Seungmin nods, labeling the map as Felix explains, the stylus hovering over the next checkpoint. “That would leave you, Changbin hyung, Hyunjin, and Chan hyung at the next checkpoint?”

“Right.”

Jisung frowns, looking down at the map. “That’s way too complicated to remember though. Are the partner switches really necessary?”

Felix nods, scrolling back to the starting point on the annotated map. “By switching the heat signatures, we’ll be able to maintain a constant heat signature without having to each split up. Not to mention it will throw them off our dimensional signatures too, so if they  _ are  _ looking for a Sentinel, they won’t know who it is.”

Despite how necessarily complex it is, Seungmin can admit that it’s a foolproof plan. Coming from Felix, of course it is. He still doesn’t like the idea of splitting up, but then again, neither Jisung nor Felix seem to be very fond of it either.

“We should wake the others up,” Felix says, handing the screen back to Seungmin, looking back at Jisung’s screen to check the androids’ position. “We’re going to need all the time we can get.”

Seungmin quickly saves the file for the map, beaming it to both Felix and Jisung’s watches so that they each have a copy. He makes sure to send it to the rest of their friends too, double checking that it went through as they walk back to the common area.

Felix heads back into their room to walk Jeongin up while Jisung and Seungmin get to wake their hyungs up. 

Chan is up easily enough, looking more rested than he has in months. Seungmin makes a mental note to thank Minho and Changbin for it later, when they’re out of here. Jisung flat out throws himself onto Changbin, who wakes up sputtering death threats that the younger just laughs at hysterically. 

Minho wakes up on his own soon after Changbin gets up to chase Jisung around, still grumbling darkly under his breath about being woken up in such an unceremonious manner. He doesn’t look asleep, but he doesn’t look particularly rested either. He takes one look at Changbin and Jisung and shakes his head, pointing his chin at Seungmin. “What happened?”

Oddly enough, he doesn’t question the mess that is Changbin and Jisung in the mornings. He just gives them one last lingering glance, smiling faintly when Jisung trips and Changbin gets closer, but doesn’t say anything as he looks expectantly at Seungmin. “Something happened, you think I can’t tell?”

Seungmin winces mentally. He was hoping that it wasn’t too obvious, but maybe this could play in his favor. If Minho is already expecting some kind of disaster, then he will probably be more prepared for the impending disaster they are all currently facing.

“There’s androids in the tunnels.”

It’s like a switch is flipped. Minho sits up immediately, taking the tablet from Seungmin to quickly scan over the security footage, switching to the screen with Felix’s plan mapped out soon after. 

“Lix’s plan, right?” He doesn’t wait for Seungmin to answer, skimming through it and reviewing each of the checkpoints. “Ah, but this won’t work?”

He doesn’t show Seungmin which checkpoint it is, but he can tell that it is one of the later ones, because it doesn’t fit all of them onto the same screen. “What won’t work?”

Minho shakes his head, albeit slowly. “Don’t worry about it. It should be fine; I just didn’t read it properly.”

That’s a blatant lie, but he knows that Minho would tell them if he believed that the outcome would be unfavorable, so he lets it go. Whatever he’s concerned about can wait, at least, until after they’ve evaded the androids. 

“You’re with Felix for the first break,” Seungmin says. “Hyunjinnie and I’ll join you on the left, but we’ll be in the tubes in the front tower.”

Minho nods, running a hand through his hair. Seungmin isn’t sure when it grew so long, but he lets it go. That’s really none of his concern anymore, anyway. Minho has always made it clear that he will do whatever he feels like, regardless of what people thought. After all, that was one of the main reasons they just never worked out.

Not that it mattered to Minho all that much, he seemed to have almost forgotten about everything.

Seungmin almost smirks when he thinks about Jisung finding out, and then remembers Jisung’s panic from last night and decides it would be best for Jisung to never, ever know about this, under any circumstances. If Minho hasn’t said anything about it, there’s really no reason for Seungmin to bring it up.

“Is Felix ready?”

Seungmin nods, taking the screen back from Minho. “Yeah, he was just waking Jeongin up.”

As if on cue, Jeongin and Felix both walk out, the younger of the two looking adorably sleepy. “I’m with Chan hyung, right?” 

Seungmin nods, directing Jeongin to stand by their oldest, on the other side. Jisung and Changbin are already standing by their elevator, the one across from Minho and Felix’s. Seungmin meets a sleepy Hyunjin to stand in front of their elevator. Hyunjin drapes himself over Seungmin’s back, groaning when Seungmin points out that they have to get into the elevator.

Felix starts a countdown that syncs with all of their wristbands, Minho flinching at the ticking in his ear. He must still be sensitive to sound, although Seungmin does think he has improved, from what he’s heard.

“What’s the next split?” Hyunjin still leans over his shoulder to speak, voice slightly muffled by the way he’s squished his cheek to the side. “After we end up with Chan hyung and Innie?”

Seungmin pulls up the map to double check before he answers. It isn’t his plan; he doesn’t want to take any chances with it. “We split up. I go with Jeongin and you go with Chan hyung.”

Hyunjin nods, his chin digging into Seungmin’s shoulder, but the younger doesn’t say anything. After discovering the androids had found them, an eerie chill had settled over the bunker and Hyunjin was warm enough to combat it.

“On the count of three,” Felix calls out from the other post. Minho stands next to him, arms crossed as he leans back against the wall with a leg kicked back against it, glaring at Changbin.

Well, not really glaring. They’re both just staring at each other really, really intensely. 

Seungmin wonders what that’s all about. “We’re ready,” he calls back, hearing Chan and Jisung respond in kind. Felix nods.

“1…

“2…

“3…”

The tube isn’t as tight of a fit as it likely is for Hyunjin in front of him, but it’s not so bad for either of them anyway. The worst comes when the tube shoots forward with a kind of sickening speed that has him bracing himself for it to just swing him off. Not that it does, obviously, that’s not possible. It just isn’t the most pleasant ride, and Seungmin’s sought after his own fair share of amusement park thrills.

They arrive at the first checkpoint within the timeframe Felix had outlined. Next to him, Hyunjin groans from where he’s hunched over. “I hate those tubes.”

“They’re not terrible?” Hyunjin lifts his head up to raise his eyebrows skeptically, and Seungmin hadn’t exactly stated it with confidence, so he lets the topic drop. Before he can say anything else, Chan and Jeongin join them.

“The next set of tubes are up there.” Jeongin points up a narrow shaft with a ladder built into it. It looks rickety enough without any of them standing on it, Seungmin hopes it can hold their weight.

Chan nods, surveying the situation quickly. “Hyunjin, you go first. Then, Jeongin, Seungmin. I’ll make sure no one catches us from behind.”

Seungmin almost smiles as he finds himself following Chan’s instructions easily. That’s their eldest, a natural born leader with enough skill to rival the Bureau.

Once Jeongin has stepped off the ladder altogether, he waves down at them, signalling for Seungmin to climb up. He does fine, until approximately a meter and half up, the rung he places his foot on twists and breaks off, clattering to the floor below him with a resounding cling.

Hyunjin is at his side in an instant, almost bodily hauling him up the rest of the way. He can see that Jeongin’s holding his breath, and shakes his head, offering their youngest a soft smile and ruffling his hair. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

That’s not really the biggest problem though, because Chan still has to climb up, and the broken run is at quite an awkward place.

“Chan hyung!” He leans over to point at the ladder. “Hyung, you have to jump!”

Chan had been insanely popular back in their academy days, when they had physical evaluations to make sure they were still in shape to keep up with the rigorous curriculum. After all, the academy trained them all to become sentients first and anything else later. Hyunjin, Felix, and Minho had likely been exceptions, with each one declaring a “more intelligent” pathway for their future, as if contributing to society from behind the scenes was worth any less than contributing in front of the scenes.

Either way, Chan had been known for his looks and his talent, of course, but he also stood out for his athletic prowess. Despite being one of the shorter competitors, he managed to outrun the majority of them, losing by less than a fraction of a second to competitors far taller than him. 

He had earned the nickname ‘kangaroo’ for his unbelievable ability to jump extremely high. A meter and a half doesn’t look too promising, but he only has to reach with his hands anyway. Seungmin knows he is strong enough to hang on after and pull himself up. 

Chan nods, taking a couple of steps back to get a running start before leaping forward. He pulls himself up with ease, just as Seungmin suspected and meets a shocked Jeongin and Hyunjin at the top. “Hyunjin, it’s our turn now.”

Their tube is a little further off Jeongin and Seungmin’s tucked on the other side of the corner, lit by a single teal light that flickers every once in a while. 

Seungmin gets in the front tube this time, since he’s taller than Jeongin and there is marginally more space in the front tube. 

It shoots forward just as jarringly as the former, and they’re off once more.

* * *

  
  


Seungmin isn’t sure when everything goes wrong. He glances back down at the screen to double check, but the names and their locations still don’t change. He’s still with Jeongin and they’re both where they’re supposed to be.

As a matter of fact, the majority of them are. It’s really only two people that are switched and Seungmin hopes that it won’t change anything or affect Felix’s plan in any way.

Where Jisung is supposed to be, getting out from the tube behind Minho, is Changbin, instead. Besides the two of them clearly having switched, Minho looks incredibly pale, like all the color was washed from his face.

Although, to be fair, Changbin looks a bit washed out himself. 

“We have a problem.” Jeongin’s voice brings him back to reality. Seungmin turns away from his hyungs to glance over their youngest’s shoulder at the screen before hissing. Changbin’s at their side in an instant, Minho in tow.

He curses loudly, grip on Minho tightening slightly. “They caught up.”

“I can handle them,” Minho interrupts, practically wrenching himself from Changbin. He stops to turn and gives Changbin a pointed look. “You know.”

Seungmin does not, and a glance at Jeongin confirms that he doesn’t either. Changbin doesn’t look too confident, not with the way he’s eyeing Minho like he would rather be anywhere but there, which, that’s entirely fair, but doesn’t really instill confidence in Minho’s plan either.

“Changbin.” Jeongin lets out a low whistle under his breath and Seungmin has to agree. Minho is often the most easy going, never really calling any of them by their full name, often sticking with little nicknames and the like, even if he is a bit of a tsundere when it comes to any other kind of affection. He never really holds grudges either, opting to talk things over if there is a problem and then move on. This must be serious, then.

Not to mention that Minho and Changbin have always been different, when it comes to their chemistry and the way they fit together. If Minho and Hyunjin had been rivals turned platonic best friends who would probably make out with each other, if so inclined, and Jisung and Minho had been the instant meet cute friends, then Minho and Changbin had been the slow burn silent chemistry with a sensual tension that wasn’t immediately obvious; once you saw it though, it was undeniable. 

He doesn’t even know what’s going on with these two; as far as he knows, they didn’t even really get close to each other until Changbin did Minho’s tattoo. He’s pretty sure Jisung was supposed to be there, but the younger boy had backed out due to his discomfort with needles.

Seungmin blinks, clearing his mind of those thoughts. Changbin has apparently agreed to Minho’s plan, albeit reluctantly. He’s scowling darkly at Minho with no regard for the fact that he’s his elder.

Figures.

“What do we need to do?” Seungmin asks, just to offer. He’s known Minho far too well and for far too long to know that he has a plan and that it likely minimizes the others’ roles for their own safety. “I mean, you’ll be doing your Sentinel thing, yeah? The rest of us non-Sentinels can still help.”

They honestly probably can’t. The Bureau’s new androids are kind of a nightmare and it’s a miracle that Sentinels can even stand up to them.

If they can actually stand up to them; it’s all just hypothetical right now, considering no one, not even any of the ARMY Sentinels have made the news for challenging Bureau androids. 

Not that the news would cover it even if it did happen. The last thing the Bureau wants to let slip is their authority being challenged, the obnoxious control freaks that they are. 

Minho bites his lip, clearly wracking his brain for some mindless task to give the rest of them. Seungmin shakes his head. He really hasn’t changed since their academy days, has he?

“You and Innie need to run,” he finally says. “Seriously, Seungminnie, I’m not kidding. When I say run, you two are going to run and not look back.”

The fact that Minho hasn’t included Changbin in this is intriguing, but he doesn’t seem that bothered by not being told to run. 

Suddenly, Seungmin feels out of the loop, like he’s missed something obvious. 

Jeongin nudges him. “They’re almost here.”

“We’re not running,” he says definitively. “Minho hyung, if you can take Changbin hyung’s help, then Innie and I can help too.” 

There’s no logic at all behind that one other than the fact that he might pretend to be indifferent to Minho, but he’s really not. Even after all that happened between them, he can’t even blame Minho for it. It really wasn’t meant to be that way, and they’ve both made their peace with it.

It, however, does not mean that he can’t care about the older.

Minho scoffs, shaking his head. “Changbinnie’s staying for a different reason. Trust me, if there was a way I could do this without him, he wouldn’t be here either.”   
  


Changbin looks away from Minho at this, looking down and a little hurt. Even Jeongin winces at the words.

“Hyung, isn’t that a bit harsh?” He speaks with his eyes glued to the screen. “They’re less than half a kilometer away.”

Minho shrugs, crossing the tube’s path to wrench a metal rod from the wall, some kind of smoke spewing from the break before settling. “It’s not about whether it’s harsh or not. The plan messed with their heads and now they don’t know who the real Sentinel is. That’s great, except for when they come after us. What, am I supposed to let them try and take you in my place?”

He crosses the other set of tubes to do the same, spinning one of the pipes in his hand before handing both to Changbin.

Changbin looks up at Minho through his eyelashes, eyes wide. “Huh?”

“You’ll need these.” Minho steadfastly avoids making eye contact, and Seungmin shares a look with Jeongin. There is clearly still something those two haven’t said. 

Changbin glances back down at the pipes in his hands and then back up again at Minho, who is looking pointedly to the side. “Hyung.”

“...”

“Minho hyung.”

Minho bites his lips, and that’s when Seungmin notices that they’re trembling slightly. “Minho hyung…”

“It’s fine!” Minho interrupts. “It’s fine. Seungminnie, Innie, go up the stairs. Now. And run until you get to the surface.”

Surprisingly, it’s Jeongin who speaks up. “Hyung, if we left, you and Changbin hyung would be stuck down here. Even if you won’t let us be a part of your plan, at least let us wait for you.”

He’s forcing Minho to agree, to accept that he isn’t turning himself in here, but it’s clear he isn’t happy about it. 

“We wouldn’t really be stuck here,” Changbin mutters under his breath, raising his eyebrows at Minho, finally making eye contact. “I mean, not for long, anyway.”

Whatever that is all about, Seungmin doesn’t know, and with the androids fast approaching, he frankly does not care.

“Hyung, we can stand in the elevator, if that will make you feel better.” It’s not a suggestion. Seungmin leads Jeongin in, and the doors close behind them, the chain doors falling over, leaving them a netted view of their hyungs.

He can see Minho muttering something, Changbin leaning over, lifting his head up and saying something back with equal fervor. 

The first android to arrive interrupts their conversation? argument? and has Minho spinning to stand in front of Changbin, despite the younger of the two having solid titanium pipes in his hands.

Then again, Minho had ripped those solid titanium pipes from the walls with his bare hands, so maybe there had been a reason for that.

Seungmin wants so badly to look away as the android advances, its mechanical footsteps grating on his ears. It’s harsh enough he and Jeongin are covering their ears; he has no idea how Minho is even still standing. 

He misses exactly when, but he blinks and the next second, Minho’s fist is through the operative cavity of the android and the metal machine falls to the floor with a loud thud. Jeongin gasps, hands gripping Seungmin’s shoulders from behind, only catching part of it through the rusted lattice in hindering their view. 

He thinks it’s better that way when the next android manages to hit Minho, although the Sentinel appears to be unaffected by it. If Hyunjin were here, he would probably say something about adrenaline. 

The androids practically leap forward after this, and Changbin’s pipes finally get some action. He isn’t trained in any kind of formal self defense the way Minho and Felix had been, nor any basic self defense the way Hyunjin had, but he’s sparred with Minho enough to be able to hold his own, even if it's more crude than the Bureau’s acceptable fighting forms.

“How many do you think there are?” Jeongin whispers shakily in his ear. “Do you think Minho hyung and Changbin hyung can handle it?”

Seungmin wishes he could answer even one of those questions, but in all honestly, he has no idea. “They’ll be fine.” He repeats it once in his head, hoping he sounded more convincing when he just said it to their youngest. “Minho hyung knows what he’s doing.”

The first few androids go down easily enough. Too easily for Seungmin to let his guard down. It doesn’t seem right—these are the Bureau’s famed silencing unit. They’re known for putting down whatever the Bureau desires with little to no resistance.

There’s a fleeting moment where he wonders if Minho and Changbin’s plan is nothing but a little resistance to the androids when Minho knocks a squad back.

He’s reaching his current limit for sure, the way his hands shake. Seungmin’s picked up on it; even if his strength is strong, when his senses overwhelm him, his hands are the first to show the signs of the overload.

A particularly strong squad of androids get back at them soon enough.

Seungmin freezes, a loud crack resounding through the tunnel. Jeongin almost screams, but Seungmin is faster, covering his mouth and tugging Jeongin into himself so that the youngest can’t see anything else. He understands the sentiment and wants to scream too, but someone beats him to it.

“Changbin!” Minho’s voice is hoarse, raspy like he’s been screaming for years and is being heard for the first time. 

Seungmin can’t look, doesn’t want to see what happened, but needs to know.

Changbin is curled in a heap in front of the elevator. Seungmin really can’t see much and doesn’t want Jeongin to see any of it, so he tries his best to take stock of Changbin’s condition. He’s not Hyunjin, but he can’t see any broken bones from his angle. Changbin is still breathing, but he’s unconscious, and Seungmin is pretty sure he hit his head when the android flung him backwards.

Minho is unconsolable and yet even more methodical than before. He’s a swirl of silver under the teal light, having reclaimed Changbin’s pipes. Seungmin risks a glance at the androids but he still can’t be sure that they’re all clear. He still doesn’t want Jeongin to look, so he just pulls their youngest closer, holding him and praying that he stops shaking.

“Seungmin hyung?”

He nods. “Yeah, Innie?”

“What happened to Changbin hyung?”   
  


His heart sinks and he swallows thickly. “He might have gotten hurt.” That’s a lie. If Changbin’s unconscious, then he’s definitely injured, and the way he fell back, he probably has a concussion and plenty of bruises. “One of the androids got him.”

It’s the most he can say without scaring Jeongin too badly so he just hopes their youngest takes the explanation and doesn’t question it. He doesn’t even know what happened himself. One second, Changbin had been standing there. Seungmin blinked. The next second, he had been lying in a heap in front of them and Minho had been unhinged.

He only really realizes that something is off when he looks away from Changbin to see the silver light casting shadows on his face.

Oh.

_ Oh. _

It isn’t a light that’s coming from the androids, but an inherent glow. Minho is glowing, silver burning in his eyes and radiating with each step he takes. Sangria bubbles over the edges of the tunnels, flooding the tunnel as they spill over the androids, dissolving everything in their path.

Seungmin takes the chance Minho has given them with his insane distraction. “Don’t look,” he instructs Jeongin, yanking the elevator doors open and dragging Changbin in with them as quickly and carefully as he can. He checks to make sure that Jeongin has his eyes closed before quickly surveying Changbin.

From what he remembers Hyunjin telling him, Changbin doesn’t have any broken bones, but he’s unconscious so he really has no way of checking for a concussion. Jeongin gasps and Seungmin winces.

“Changbin hyung?”

“Innie, I told you not to look!”

“Seungmin hyung, is he okay?” His eyes are wide and his legs are shaking as he crouches down to pat Changbin’s hand. 

He doesn’t answer immediately, checking his pulse. He exhales hurriedly. “He will be.”

Jeongin relaxes a bit at that, but he still looks scared. “What about Minho hyung?”   
  


Oh, that’s something Seungmin has no idea how to answer. In their cocooned alcove of an elevator, they are sheltered from Minho’s wrath, but he can only hope that he has enough control over that new bubbling ability to keep it from hurting any of them.

“He’s still holding them off,” he admits. He really doesn’t know how much longer Minho can keep it up, he’s been doing this for a good fifteen minutes now, and the androids have formed a wall in front him, blocking him from pushing forward altogether. “He’s stronger now, Innie. It’s going to be okay.”

He hears a loud thud, and the pipes go flying into the ground in front of the elevator. Seungmin holds his breath, waiting for Minho to fall, but then he realizes that Minho is still standing. 

The silver glow is almost unbearable to look at, and the bubbles seem to have disappeared. What is Minho doing?

The thought is too fast, the bubbling turning with a vengeance fueled vigor as they burst into the center of the android defense.

He isn’t sure what it’s supposed to do, if the androids are supposed to dissolve like the now eroded walls but he stands up to see. Jeongin stands up with him, and he vaguely remembers that he’s supposed to be covering his eyes, but he’s too transfixed by Minho to actually do it.

The androids shatter, the explosion resounding around them. Minho stands at the center of it all, ducking down to protect his head as the shards of android debris cascade from the epicenter.

Just as quickly as they had bubbled up, the sangria disappears, taking the silver glow with it.

Jeongin and Seungmin hold their breath as the dust clears and Minho is left crouched over himself, the remains of at least a hundred androids surrounding him.

It looks like a wasteland of their own creation, the parts scattered around him resembling dust more than an android army. Jeongin gasps, the screen blinking pink in his hands.

“He took them all out,” he breathes reverently, and Seungmin doesn’t get it, not until he looks at the screen. 

Every single blip on their map is gone, every single android wiped out from the maze of tunnels. Only Chan, Hyunjin, Jisung, and Felix’s names blink back up at them other than their own.

“What the he—”

Seungmin whirls around to see Changbin clutching his head, eyes squeezed shut. “Ugh, is this how Minho hyung feels all the time?”

“Hyung, are you a Sentinel too?”

Changbin scoffs but winces immediately after, still clutching his head. “No. I have a headache, what the heck happened?”

Jeongin throws his arms around Changbin, not caring that he has to kneel awkwardly to do so. “Wait, where’s Minho hyung?”

Seungmin is a little caught up in the destruction around them, forgetting to answer Changbin’s question.

“Hey, did something happen to Minho hyung?”

Seungmin blinks, snapping out of his daze. “No, hyung’s fine.” He thinks. He can’t actually be sure. Minho’s still crouched over. “You probably have a concussion.”

Changbin almost rolls his eyes, but catches himself before he does. “Yeah, I can feel that. What happened?”

Jeongin pockets the screen hesitantly, looking expectantly at Seungmin to answer. Changbin follows his gaze, nodding at him.

Truth be told, Seungmin really has no idea what Minho did. It was insanely brilliant, whatever it was, but he can’t actually explain it. “You might have to ask hyung,” he says, just as the metal doors behind them clang together, opening slowly. 

Changbin gapes at the imprints of his hands in the door. “Minho hyung, what the he—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Minho leans over to press his face into Changbin’s shoulder, exhaling shakily. Changbin shivers. “You’re okay.”

Changbin makes a face. “Of course I’m okay. What, do you think I sparred with you and Hyunjin to just get knocked out.”

“Changbin, you flew two meters in the air before you hit the elevator gates,” Minho murmurs, lips pressed against his neck. “Sorry for being worried.”

Seungmin can practically picture Minho rolling his eyes after that. Jeongin smile drops, faltering. “What?”

Changbin blinks, eyes widening when he seems to remember where he is. “Ah, Innie, it really wasn’t that bad. Hyung’s just exaggerating, right, Minho hyung?”

Minho doesn’t respond to that, just pressing closer. Thrown off, Changbin rests an arm around his waist, patting his back. “Hyung?”

“Changbinnie will just have to spend more time training,” Minho mutters, pulling away. His eyes glimmer suspiciously, but when Changbin raises his hand to point them out? brush them away? Minho just grips his wrist loosely, not looking at the younger. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jeongin opens his mouth to ask but Seungmin shakes his head. Whatever is going on between Minho and Changbin is none of their business and they really should stay out of it. He’s never seen Minho this upset before and he really doesn’t want to make it worse. 

Turning away from Jeongin, he nods. “The others are probably already waiting at the meeting point. Changbin hyung, can you stand?”

“I got it,” Minho cuts in sharply, hauling Changbin to his feet. Despite how crisp his words are, he’s careful to make sure that he doesn’t aggravate Changbin’s suspected concussion. He lets Changbin lean against him. Arm around his back to keep him upright. “You probably bruised everything too.”

His words are filled with disdain, a kind of self loathing Seungmin has  _ never  _ heard from Minho. He wants to stop and ask the elder if he’s okay but they don’t have time.

Jeongin pulls the screen back out to check the map and confirm that the rest of their friends are still safe and haven’t gotten caught up in any trouble. “Incredible.”

Seungmin tears his glance away from Minho and Changbin behind them. “What?”

“Minho hyung really took out every single android that came after us,” Jeongin breathes. “Didn’t Yongbok hyung say he didn’t have that much control over his abilities yet?”

Felix had, in fact, said something along those lines. It had been more about how Minho had greatly improved, but without a connection acknowledged between the Sentinel and his Guide, there was no chance of him ever reaching his full potential.

“Maybe Felix was wrong,” Seungmin points out. “Or maybe this isn’t even his full potential?”

Jeongin shrugs. “I guess, but that doesn’t make sense. He seemed like he was in perfect control the entire time to me.”

Now that Jeongin brings it up, Seungmin agrees. It  _ had  _ looked like Minho had lost control for a moment there, when the android had thrown Changbin. But his actions had been far from those of someone so distraught they couldn’t think straight. He’d taken the Sentinels out methodically, the explosion reducing to less than what the Bureau valued them to be. 

“We can ask Hyunjin and Felix to look into it,” Seungmin offers to Jeongin, sensing that the younger hadn’t quite let the subject go.

Jeongin shrugs again. “I don’t think it’s a physiological thing, hyung. And if it’s a sentinel thing, then that doesn’t mean that Felix hyung would know.”

That’s true too. “Maybe Minho hyung knows and can explain it to you,” he finally says, ruffling Jeongin’s hair. “Don’t worry too much about it for now. We’re fine and Changbin hyung will be fine too. Hyunjin will be able to fix him right up and he’ll probably scold him too. Hannie’ll probably yell at hyung too, for letting the androids get him.”

  
  


The teal light above them dwindles into a gradient, and before long, they’re bathed in the familiar blues and pinks of the district at night. Hovercrafts and hovercycles alike fly over their heads in their respective lanes, each rider and driver dressed in identical helmets and riding and driving identical vehicles.

It’s really only after seeing this that Seungmin realizes Minho probably customized his hovercycle to be the obnoxious mint color that it was. At least Hyunjin had been reasonable enough to use black and white—although the zebra point negated any attempts the colors had made to get the hovercycle blend in—but this had been a straight up mint colored hovercycle.

“Oh, that’s way too bright,” Changbin grumbles, eyes shut tightly. 

“That’s what you get for pulling something like that,” Minho snaps back, although he does take his hoodie off to tug the oversized piece of clothing over Changbin’s head. The large size helps the hood cover more than just his head, falling slightly over his eyes too. 

Seungmin glances around quickly while Jeongin traces their path on the map. “Chan hyung, Hyunjin hyung, Jisung hyung, and Yongbok hyung are inside,” he informs them. “Changbin hyung, are you okay?”

“Yah, how many times are you going to ask me if I’m fine, I’ve already told you—”

Minho swats his arm. “You can just answer the question; he’s clearly actually worried, give him a break.”

“What, are you saying you don’t care enough to worry about me?”

Minho scoffs. “Why would I be worried about you?”

That’s a blatant lie that Seungmin is tempted to call him out on. He opens his mouth to do just that when Minho glares darkly at him. Seungmin gulps and shakes his head. The time to expose Minho clearly isn’t now. 

Changbin sulks at Minho’s retort, turning away in his hold to face Jeongin instead. “Innie-yah, you still care about me, don’t you? I’m fine, don’t worry.”

A concussion isn’t exactly what Seungmin would define as fine, but you do you, Changbin. He leads them through the alleyway, confident that Chan and Jisung turned off any security cameras on their way in. 

“What happened to you two?” Hyunjin is the first to jump in, eyes focused on Minho and Changbin.

Right, despite Minho not being injured, he’s covered in android debris and looks as tired as he probably is. 

Hyunjin fusses about both of them, pinching Changbin when he tries to escape. “Changbin hyung, you’re stupid. And you have a concussion.”

Ah, so Seungmin was right about that.

“What happened?” Chan repeats, calmer and surveying the situation with a level head. 

Jisung jumps in, eyes wide. “The androids disappeared from our screens altogether. Did you guys see them?”

Minho snorts. “Did we see them.”

Seungmin purses his lips. “That’s an understatement, really.”

Felix frowns. “You ran into a group of androids?”

“Depends on how big you would classify a group to be,” Jeongin points out as Hyunjin leads Changbin into a smaller room that branches out from his office. “How did you manage to get a connection to a med department building?”

Felix shakes head. “No, wait, what do you mean, it depends on how big I would classify the group to be. Each squad of androids is ten.”

“Oh, then we ran in eleven or so groups!” Minho calls from the office, cursing when Hyunjin does something. 

“Hyung, sit still!”

“Eleven?!” Felix is incredulous. “How the heck did you guys get away from  _ eleven  _ squads of those androids?”

Even Chan looks worried, but he tells Felix to wait for Hyunjin to finish up with Minho and Changbin so that they can explain without having to scream at each other from across the office. “There’s still a chance that someone could hear.”

Seungmin nods. “How did you guys get out? Everything went okay?”

Jisung nods. “Yeah, sorry, Changbin hyung asked to switch with me. Is that why the androids came after you?”   
  


Felix shakes his head. “No, that wouldn’t have made that big of a difference. It’s probably something else. Jisung and Changbin hyung switching was just because… Wait…” He trails off and Jisung gives him a curious look but gets no answer. 

“Everything went smoothly on our end,” Chan admits. “We got here an hour before you guys did though. Hyunjin and Felix were ready to go back and see what happened to you.”

“We’re fine, hyung.” Jeongin gestures to the screen. “What’s up with that?”

Seungmin looks over, the neon red lettering jumping out at him. “The Ninja Network?”

Chan nods. “We figured it was time for 3racha to debut on the Bureau’s radar, if not to create a distraction. Jisung and I did an entire overhaul, grabbing pretty much anything we could form their servers before purging the traces altogether.”   
  


“There’s a lot of stuff for us to go throw in these next few days,” Jisung pouts. “If I knew Chan hyung was just going to make us go through files, I would have waited for Changbin hyung.”

“That’s the weird thing though,” Chan begins, standing in front of the glass wall in front of them, taking in the city at night, the neon signs blinking from the skyscrapers around them. “Most of the files weren’t even encoded.”

“They weren’t?”

Jisung shakes his head. “No, but that’s not even the weirdest part.”

“Do you think they wanted you to find the files?” Felix sits down on the sofa armrest, sliding down so that his feet are hanging over it instead. “That they already knew about 3racha?”

“That’s not possible. 3racha has been an underground server, deeper so than ARMY. For the Bureau to know about us, they would have had to destroy their own servers.”

And the Bureau, self serving and controlling as it was, would never do that.

“What’s the weirdest part?” Jeongin asks, sitting down next to Felix so he could relax and rest his back against Jeongin’s shoulder instead of hugging his knees stiffly. “You said the lack of encoding wasn’t it.”

“It’s not,” Chan agrees. “And really, weird is the only way to describe it.”

“Lee Know hyung I will not hesitate to shove this up your nose if you don’t sit down and listen!”

They all turn to look at the room. Hyunjin rarely calls Minho Lee Know these days, not after they stopped racing anyway. He pokes his head out, long black hair falling into his eyes. Hyunjin pushes them aside, tucking them behind his ear sheepishly. “Sorry.”

He turns back to the office, closing the door behind him, but they can all still faintly hear Minho and Hyunjin arguing. At least Minho is feeling a bit better.

“The Bureau’s been hiding something far bigger than Sentinels for a while now,” Chan begins. “Honestly, I didn’t even believe it when I first read it, so just… suspend your disbelief for a second.”

“Okay, disbelief suspended,” Felix agrees. “What is it?”

“We thought that the districts aligned with the former nations, right?” 

Seungmin nods. “Right, that’s why Felix just said he came from the Australian district.”

“Well, that’s incorrect.” Jeongin tilts his head, not understanding.

“As in it’s not called that or he didn’t come from the Australian district?”

Jisung nods. “It’s both.”

“The Australian district, to begin with, isn’t even in Australia. We found a map of the former world, and there’s no way the tubes can run underwater. Australia is supposed to be an entire ocean away.”

“There are no oceans left though,” Seungmin points out. “Unless the Bureau lied about that too?”

Jisung laughs sardonically. “The Bureau’s lied about everything Seungminnie. Don’t think too much of it. Don’t even focus on the oceans or everything else is going to seem insane to you.”

“Hannie’s right,” Chan says, turning from the window, the cityscape illuminating his silhouette. “The districts are just an experiment. We’re isolated from the real world, and there’s nothing real about any of this.”

Felix frowns. “Isolated from the real world?”

Chan takes a deep breath. “It’s really not going to make any sense, but we pulled files from the real world into our world.”

“If this isn’t the real world, then what is? Where are we?”

Felix’s voice is low and steady, but his questions are earth shatteringly loud. They ring in his ears and Seungmin thinks he might be onto something there.

Jisung shrugs, looking to the window before looking back to Chan to finish explaining. Chan bites his lip, glancing at the office, which has also conveniently gone silent. 

“Hyung, if you would hurry up and say whatever it is, that would kill the suspense.” Minho’s voice is muffled by the wall but still just as dry and impatient as the rest of them are probably feeling.

“This isn’t real,” Chan says. “None of it is.”

Outside the window, a neon sign tumbles from the second tallest building in the city, crashing down into the android wasteland. The light spills from the sign, lighting up a former graveyard in a display of what can only be resilience.

The city never sleeps at night.

“We’re not real.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please please please let me know what y'all think in the comments !! i love reading theories and just hearing what you guys are thinking, it always pushes me to be a better writer, and it lets me know if what i've thought of is predictable or not (and i hope it's not, but y'all are smart so)
> 
> if there are any mistakes, i will probably come back to fix them in a couple weeks or so, when my new laptop arrives. until then, i'm really not sure if i'll be able to update anything, but i will try my best!!
> 
> happy thanksgiving to everyone, and remember that i am thankful for all of you !!


	7. [detect]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, if we’re not real, then what the heck are we?” Seungmin crosses his arms. “You guys aren’t making any sense. I can understand there being more than just the districts. We all can—we’ve all seen the maps of the former nations. Minho hyung has even talked about it.”
> 
> He stops suddenly, almost cutting himself off, like he didn’t mean to say that last part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 90% of this chapter is soft interactions and pure fluff because that's what i was feeling like <3

Jeongin doesn’t remember joining the academy. He knows that logically, he had to join it somehow, to have spent the time that he did with his friends and to learn all that he did, but he really has no distinct memories of joining the academy. 

In fact, he doesn’t remember much before the academy either. Not a family, nor a home before it. The others never really bring up their own families either, though Hyunjin does bring up Jinyoung every once in a while, but a gay awakening in the form of a senior student at the academy is far from a family.

That’s why, when Chan says that they’re not real, he doesn’t particularly struggle to accept it. 

Obviously, he has questions about what that means for the rest of them and their future wherever it is that they are, but he isn’t too concerned with not being real. 

Doesn’t everyone go through an existential crisis at one point or another in their lives? This could be theirs.

“What do you mean we’re not real.” Felix’s voice is flat and he sounds a lot more upset than the others, for some reason. Chan blinks twice, eyes wide as he tries to gauge Felix’s mood. “ _Chan. What do you mean, we’re not real?”_

The switch to English is abrupt and only serves to accentuate his deep voice further. But it also highlights how upset Felix really is.

Jeongin wonders if Chan knew before this, or at least suspected, and hadn’t brought it up until now because he hadn’t had the evidence until now.

There’s a loud thud from the office and another muffled apology from Hyunjin that distracts him temporarily. When he looks back, Felix and Chan are still staring at each other, equally unimpressed. 

“It’s hard to explain,” Jisung jumps in when it becomes clear that the two of them will remain otherwise occupied in their staring contest. “There’s a lot of static data about simulations and progress and comparisons to former nations with no connection to the districts.”

“Well, if we’re not real, then what the heck are we?” Seungmin crosses his arms. “You guys aren’t making any sense. I can understand there being more than just the districts. We all can—we’ve all seen the maps of the former nations. Minho hyung has even talked about it.”

He stops suddenly, almost cutting himself off, like he didn’t mean to say that last part. 

Jisung narrows his eyes at Seungmin. “Minho hyung has even talked about it?” His voice is deadly silent, like he’s daring Seungmin to confirm that what he said is true.

Jeongin rolls his eyes. “That’s what he said, Han hyung, keep up.” He’s well aware that he isn’t exactly being the most respectful, but he really doesn’t want to deal with Jisung and his ego complex when it comes to being Minho’s ultimate best friend right now. It’s not even a priority if what Chan is saying is true.

“Innie, I’m asking Seungminnie, okay?”

“So what if that’s what he said?” Minho’s voice is a welcome distraction. “What difference does it make if we talked about it? Ow, Hyunjin, don’t go sticking things in places you don’t understand!”

“Hyung, I will shove it up there if you don’t shut up.”

“Yah, show some respect, Hyunjin-ah. How many degrees did I say?”

Hyunjin presumably pitifully mumbles back the temperature, but it’s quiet enough after that that they don’t really hear anything.

Jisung deflates at Minho’s words but he glares at Seungmin once more when he opens his mouth to speak. Seungmin closes his mouth, rolls his eyes, and continues.

“I’m just saying there’s no way that the districts we know actually span the spaces the former nations claimed,” Seungmin finishes.

It makes sense, looking at it from a step back. “Yeah, and the districts are too crowded and lack diversity too. We might only make up a single nation from before, and even that seems like a lot.”

Felix tears his eyes away from Chan. “Isn’t this what happened when the androids gained consciousness? They rose up and rebelled against the Bureau. Are you saying it’s our turn now, hyung?”

That’s an interesting thought to have, to say the least. Jeongin has to admit that only Felix would be able to come up with something like that. 

“If that’s the way you want to look at it, then we already have,” Chan points out. “3racha, the Sentinels, ARMY, even BamBam and his crew. We’re all minor rebellions, aren’t we?”

“What if someone’s listening to all this?” Jisung jumps in, round eyes wide and cheeks puffed out slightly. He really defaults to being cute without realizing it. Jeongin shakes his head at the thought. “The Bureau had people spying on the androids—that’s how they figured out they’d gained consciousness. Isn’t this us gaining our consciousness?”

In a way, it is. They have been blind to the world around them for long enough, asleep in the Bureau’s arms up until now.

This can be them gaining consciousness just as easily as it can be them having an identity crisis.

But, now what?

“What’s the plan, Chan hyung?” Felix’s voice is still cold, but he seems to have made peace with whatever his previous issue was. “Or is that where I come into the picture?”

Chan winces at the second half of his question. “Actually, there is no plan. We really need to take a step back and evaluate what we’re going to do about this. And Felix, this has nothing to do with you being a phenomenal strategist—because you definitely are—and everything to do with the lack of information we have right now.”

“Is it a simulation?” Seungmin asks curiously. “A sleep induced simulation that we’re all waking up from now?”

Jisung snorts. “I don’t know about you, Seungminnie, but I’ve felt pretty awake this entire time.”

Jeongin’s with Jisung on this one, but… “It would still feel real to us if it were a sleep induced simulation, wouldn’t it?”

This doesn’t really fall into any of their areas of expertise, except maybe Minho’s. His role as a Bureaucrat did include involvement with inducing equipment, though Minho did tend to the coding and systematic realm of things.

“It would,” Felix agrees. “Not to mention it would make it harder for us to tell the difference between our actual realities and whatever the alternative is.”

A terse silence falls over them, all four turning to the window where Chan stands. If what they’ve determined is actually true, then there’s no telling what comes next.

A sign outside flashes from a blinding pink to cyan, advertising JYPCorp’s newest set of implants, presumably the ones Hyunjin and the 00’s had been working on before he’d had to leave it all behind.

“That’s our next step,” Chan states. “If there’s anywhere we can get answers from, it’s JYP. They’re behind all the major technological innovations—if there’s any place that knows about sleep induced simulations, that’s where it is.”

Felix nods, unfolding his legs from over the armrest to stretch them out in front of himself instead. “Minho hyung probably knows which building we have to focus on, so once we know that, we can begin surveillance.”

Seungmin frowns. “What, we’re breaking in?”

Jisung raises his eyebrows, looking up from the screen he had been typing on. “Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly grown a conscious about the Bureau and everything to do with it.”

Seungmin shakes his head. “It’s not that. I just don’t see how it’ll help us to break in. 3racha can hack into the security systems and the databases, and once we’re in Minho hyung can decode the right data. Shouldn’t this be a mission we perform remotely?”

Jeongin will admit, he would prefer to avoid breaking in anywhere. The Bureau mission had been stressful enough, and Minho still didn’t have complete control over his abilities as a Sentinel, despite the impressive performance in the tunnels earlier. It doesn’t seem safe enough to risk everything so soon.

His attention must show on his face, for Chan gives him a concerned look. “Innie, Seungminnie, if you guys are worried about getting caught, you guys can wait here too. Changbinnie, Jisungie, and I all won’t be going either—we would need at least one of us here to keep an eye on cams.”

“It’s not that,” Seungmin admits. “I just think we’re rushing it.”

Felix snorts. “We don’t have a choice though. You don’t have to decide now, anyway. We’ll need time to survey the place, pick our points, and canvass the location.” He sits up straight suddenly, running a hand through his hair. It’s growing a little longer in the back—nowhere near as long as Hyunjin’s mane nor Minho’s overgrown shag, but somewhat of a mullet. Oddly enough, it suits him. “Chan hyung, have you heard back from BamBam?”

Chan nods slowly. “That’s part of why I’m pushing this. BamBam’s information can’t be decoded by any of our software, and it wasn’t even sent by any of our software.”

Jeongin frowns. “He could have built his own hardware, but if he’s in the district—in any of the districts—then it would have to use the same software.”

“That’s what I was thinking too, but I wanted to check with you and Seungminnie about that before I came to that conclusion. The only way he could be using different hardware and software would be if he were somewhere outside of the districts.”

For a moment, it seems possible that outside of the districts could have applied to them when they were seeking refuge in the bunker from the previous android war, but come to think of it, the majority of the technology was the same. Even the hardware was the same, if slightly outdated.

But it had all worked well enough to draw their suspicion and they had failed to notice it.

For technology as old as it was, there was no way it should have connected with the current software and interfaces as fluidly as it did, as if there was no difference between the technology of a hundred years ago and the technology of today.

“So your informant isn’t even in this, what, realm?” 

Jisung looks at Felix and stops typing. “That means there’s more out there.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes. “No, Han hyung. This version of us doesn’t exist. We’re all somewhere else while this is just our consciousnesses.”

Well.

When he puts it like that, it’s far more terrifying than being told that they’re not real. 

Still, a lot of things don’t add up. Sentinels, their physical injuries—none of it makes sense in the context that they aren’t real. 

And what of the eighth dimension the Sentinels supposedly can see into? That wouldn’t exist, would it?

“There’s a lot we still have to figure out, in terms of logistics,” Seungmin supplies. “I suppose we’ll be doing that while Changbin hyung rests?”

It turns out to be a correct assumption. Hyunjin informs them that Changbin will likely be better in anywhere between seven to fourteen days, likely fully healed around the eighth day due to something cushioning his fall, somehow. Jeongin suspects Minho to be responsible for the latter part, but he can’t connect it to their theory that this is all—to oversimplify it—a glorified lucid dream. 

Is Minho, as a Sentinel, able to manipulate the code that’s set them in their sleep?

Hyunjin closes the door behind him, only for Minho to open it once more and close it again behind him. “We can talk about it later, Hyunjin-ah.” Minho’s voice is sickly sweet and would scare a lesser man, but for some reason, Hyunjin just shrugs.

“That has nothing to do with me,” he sings. “Is he sleeping?”

“He better be.” Minho plops down next to Felix, somehow still graceful in his movements despite the actions being as graceless as they are. “What makes you think it’s a sleep induced simulation? There’s always a tell if it is, have you found yours?”

And just like that, they have their next step. 

Minho explains that a tell is typically blatantly obvious once you figure it out, but hidden in plain sight until then. It is a sign that only you could recognize, one that even those who administer and create the simulation would be unaware of because of your neurochemistry and the way your brain perceives the simulation.

“So the Bureau wouldn’t even know what your tell is,” he finishes, leaning against Felix, who just shifts slightly to the side to accommodate him. “It isn’t something they planned for, but I know that they never figured that part out. If you find your tell, then you can essentially see through the simulation.”

Jisung looks up from his screen. He isn’t actively glaring at Minho like he was before—and Jeongin still has no idea what happened for Jisung to be that mad—but he still isn’t all over Minho the way he was before either. There’s a distance between them that neither of the two have acknowledged and Jeongin wonders if it’s as obvious to the rest of them as it is to him. “How would we know if it’s a tell?”

Minho takes longer to answer, looking at Jisung long enough for him to squirm slightly under his gaze before shrugging. “How would I know? It’s something only you would know.”

Chan shakes his head. “No, is it something visual, like a sign that literally glows ‘this is fake,’ or something like not being able to taste food?”

Hyunjin raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow, sitting down on Minho’s other side, attempting to get Minho to stroke his hair, but failing. “You haven’t been able to taste food?”

“No, I have. Why?”

Minho pats Hyunjin’s head, albeit slightly aggressively. “I don’t think it would be a super big sign, but then again, it really depends on you. Hyung, you’re good with technology, so it could be the code literally showing you that this isn’t real, for all I know.”

Jisung gasps. “Changbin hyung said that.”

Felix frowns, curling an arm around Minho’s shoulders, fingers tapping a silent rhythm against his right shoulder. “What?”

Jisung nods excitedly, the screen in his hands forgotten. “Yeah! Changbin hyung kept complaining a week ago that his screen was glitching or something because no matter what he typed, the code kept saying something in latin? Something about a pelvis?”

Minho snorts, causing Jisung to look back up at him again. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“It wasn’t about a pelvis, Jisungie,” is all Minho says, but Jisung keeps staring at him. “Pulvis et umbra sumus, vivamus moriendum est, right?”

“Wait, how did you know?”

To be fair, Minho looks just as confused, though Jeongin is sure it’s for different reasons that Jisung’s confusion. “It doesn’t make sense, a tell is supposed to be something that no one else knows.”

Jisung shrugs. “I don’t think any of us know what that means, hyung. It has to be his tell.”

“I know what it means, but I guess… I guess it’s possible.”

“You know what it means?”

“Yeah, ‘we are but dust and shadow, let us live since we must die.’ Changbinnie brought it up when… Oh, that’s why.” Minho cuts himself off abruptly, discontinuing whatever thought he had in mind. “My point is, that’s his tell. It’ll make it easier to retain his mind when his body wakes up too. What about the rest of you?”

Hyunjin forces Minho’s hand to stroke his hair, “Oh, that’s easy. I thought the shower water broke, so I went to get Felix and show him, but then I forgot to get a towel, so Felix wouldn’t come in, but the shower water kept stopping mid air, so that the water drops were suspended in the air.”

Chan gives Hyunjin a look. “You tried to get Felix to join you in the shower?”

Hyunjin flushes, huffing. “Not like _that_ , hyung. Though, Minho hyung and I have showered together before.” Minho doesn’t even blink at this, so it must be true. Jisung takes it slightly less well, scowling darkly. “I just wanted to see if Felix could see it too, but he couldn’t, so it must be my tell.”

Actually, at this point, Jisung is just openly staring at Minho with such an intensity that Jeongin wouldn’t be surprised if he’s trying to see through Minho altogether. 

Someone else says something, and Jeongin misses it, but the next thing he knows, Hyunjin is whining about not being as promiscuous as the way he tells his stories portrays him. That’s fair. Jeongin thinks Hyunjin is probably the shiest of them all, apart from Jisung, although they both have their fair share of shameless moments. 

“That’s only three of us,” Minho drawls, finally combing through Hyunjin’s hair unprompted when the younger flops into his lap while Felix turns his shoulder into a personal cushion. “What about the other five of you?”

Jeongin frowns. Three? Changbin’s tell had been the Latin quote and Hyunjin’s had been the shower. Who was the third?

Felix shifts slightly to drape himself over Minho’s side, sighing contentedly when Minho wraps an arm around him too. Minho looks like he’s trapped under two big cats at this point, with the way Hyunjin and Felix have made themselves comfortable, but it’s a little cute. There’s rarely a moment of peace between Hyunjin and Minho, so this is nice. 

And Minho and Felix together are just their own breed of cute. 

Seungmin seems to come to the same conclusion as him. “Who’s the third?”

Minho’s eyes widen, like he hadn’t even considered the possibility that they didn’t know. “Me. How else would I know so much about tells?”

It brings up an interesting question; if Minho is capable of noticing tells in their “real” world, then what do those who undergo the simulation see? Is it a tell in a tell?

“You work with them,” Jisung points out. “How can you tell the difference between a tell in the simulation and a tell in your actual life, which also happens to be a simulation?”

Minho blinks. “I program those simulations. The Bureau would never notice because they don’t understand. I’ve seen tells outside of the simulation and that’s how I recognize tells inside the simulation.”

Chan sits down on the stiff chair across from the sofa those three are sprawled on. “Why didn’t you ever bring it up?”  
  


Minho snorts. “What was I supposed to bring up? When you work at the Bureau as long as I did, and with simulations, the lines between the two start to blur. I really did think I was imagining things for the first year or so after I graduated.”

Jeongin reaches over to pick up a glass of water, almost dropping it when he hears that. It _has_ only been a little over a year since they graduated. Well, they being Jeongin, Minho, and Hyunjin. To be fair, the older ones would have graduated sooner, if it hadn’t been for their chosen career path. To think that Minho had convinced himself he was losing his mind, all while coping with a new job and manifesting as a Sentinel, is just… sad.

Felix must share the same sentiment, since he hugs Minho a little tighter. Hyunjin even nuzzles his head against Minho’s stomach, long hair splaying out over the dark holographic material of his pants.

“I guess mine was when I felt like I could see through everything,” Chan offers tentatively. “Obviously, it wasn’t a Sentinel or Guide type ability or anything. I could literally see the framework of the simulation.”

Minho nods as if he expected that. Jeongin wonders if reading minds is a power Sentinels possess, or if it’s just something unique to Minho. He might be terrible at expressing his feelings through words, but he’s somehow phenomenal at understanding others easily.

“That’s four,” Hyunjin counts off, words muffled where he’s turned his face into Minho’s stomach, patting Minho’s chest absentmindedly. Jeongin exchanges a look with Seungmin; there’s no way Minho is going to let Hyunjin keep doing that. 

Felix nods. “I couldn’t see the shower thing Hyunjin was talking about, so that means that it was definitely his tell. I really don’t think I’ve found mine yet.”

“I saw mine when all of the parts for the hovercraft randomly started floating,” Seungmin offers. “Innie couldn’t see it even though it happened right in front of him. I just assumed it was an isolated magnetic event or something, but I guess not?”

Jeongin nods. “Right, Seungmin hyung kept saying all of the parts were hovering on their own, but I never saw it. I did think I saw all of the lights in the district suddenly turn off, but then again, I could have dreamed that.”

Minho shakes his head. “That’s extremely unlikely. And either way, your dreams and your reality in the simulation are pretty much the same thing. Dreams are just when the simulation probes further into your consciousness.”

That means that everyone but Felix and Jisung have found their tells already. Minho must notice too, because he immediately looks over at Jisung. He carefully shakes Hyunjin and Felix off, standing up and gently tugging Jisung out of the room with him, stepping into where Changbin is sleeping. Too surprised to respond, Jisung follows quietly.

* * *

  
  


“Hyung, what are you doing?” Jisung almost trips over Minho’s heel, steadying himself with a hand against the wall. “Hyung, if you were going to ask about my tell, you could have asked that in front of the others too.”

Minho doesn’t say anything, standing quietly for long enough that Jisung gets a little worried. “Minho hyung?”

He still doesn’t say anything, just looks at Jisung with wide eyes. Jisung takes a step closer, slow enough that Minho should notice, but he still flinches when he realizes.

Jisung places a hand on Minho’s neck, stepping even closer. Minho closes his eyes, eyelashes fluttering shut softly. Jisung admires how long and dainty they look, a contrast from how Minho normally is. 

He leans over slightly to rest their foreheads together, hand drifting up from Minho’s neck to run his fingers through his hair and where it curls slightly at the nape of his neck. It’s longer than it’s ever been before, although it’s still not as long as Hyunjin’s hair. Jisung thinks it’s unfair that Minho still looks so good no matter how long his hair is. 

“Hyung, are you okay?” He keeps his voice low enough so that they won’t wake Changbin up, although he’s pretty sure Hyunjin had to sedate him to get him to rest properly and let his concussion heal.

Minho exhales deeply, and only then does Jisung realize that he’s shaking where he leans against him. “Sorry Hannie.”

That’s… not what he was expecting Minho to say.

“Sorry?”

Minho nods, hair brushing against Jisung’s eyes with the movement. “I shouldn’t have been so harsh on you when I told you that you weren’t my Guide.”

_Oh._

That. 

In all fairness, Jisung thinks some of the blame is his too. He did overreact without really thinking it through, which was rare, but also not, for him. Minho didn’t deserve the anger he took out on him, not all of it anyway. The root of his frustration really had nothing to do with Jisung being his Guide anyway, but more to do with their unresolved feelings.

None of which their close proximity is helping, but this time, that’s on him for pulling Minho as close to him as he did. 

“Hyung, you really don’t have to apologize for that,” Jisung starts, opening his eyes and leaning back slightly to give Minho a little space. His eyes widen, startled as he realizes that Minho’s eyes are glistening.

Minho shakes his head, pulling Jisung back into a hug this time with arms wrapped around his waist and his face pressed into Jisung’s shoulder, despite being taller than him. “Hannie, you are important to me, you know that right? I know… I know I’m not good at talking about these kinds of things, but you matter to me, okay?”

Is Minho… confessing?

Jisung tenses. This really isn’t the best timing, considering he thought they were both over that, but maybe it’s just been him this entire time?

“I just want you to know that even if you’re not my Guide, that you are important to me,” Minho continues. “And you always will be.”

That’s oddly final, almost as if Minho thinks that something is going to happen to him. “Hyung, what are you talking about? Of course I know that! You’re important to me too, not talking about it is our thing! It’s an unspoken thing!”

“That sounds like poor communication,” Changbin mutters from the bed he’s lying on. Minho’s head snaps up.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Changbin shrugs. “I was. Now I’m awake. What’s wrong with the two of you?”

Minho shakes his head, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, eyelashes wet when he pulls away. “Go to sleep, Changbinnie.” His voice is resigned, but still soft. Just tired.

And that is understandable really. Jisung isn’t sure why he didn’t think of it sooner. Minho must be exhausted from all the running around, his extreme fight with the androids, and oh, he’s passed out.

“Don’t just stare at him,” Changbin grumbles. “There’s enough room on the bed, if you can see where it is. Hyunjin turned off the lights because it’s supposed to help with the concussion.”

Minho isn’t particularly heavy, but he does feel stronger when Jisung struggles a bit to lift him up enough to get him on the bed. Changbin offers to help, but Jisung declines. Changbin is injured and shouldn’t be straining himself just because Jisung isn’t strong enough. He really hopes it’s a Sentinel thing and not the fact that he’s gotten a bit lax with his workouts lately. 

It’s probably a bit of both.

“Changbin hyung?” Oh, this really does feel weird. He and Changbin are close, really close. They have known each other basically the longest, but they never really talk about serious things like this. They keep it light hearted because they both talk to other people about the deeper things. It’s not that they don’t trust each other, quite the opposite, but that it’s just awkward when you know someone so well to talk about certain things. Still, Jisung just feels really uncertain about this whole thing. “Is Minho hyung okay?”

That’s not what he had planned on saying, but it still holds true.

Changbin probably raises his eyebrows at this. Probably. Jisung can’t really see much in the dark. “He’s tired for sure, but you can see that.”

Jisung nods. He can.

“Sungie, is this about the Guide thing?” Changbin’s voice is guarded, which is certainly new, considering that there really are no secrets between the two. Although, Jisung could see him not wanting to get involved in the drama between him and Minho.

Speaking of Minho. Changbin pulls Minho closer so that he’s not so close to the edge. Jisung is close enough now to see the arm that Changbin places over his waist protectively and smiles. Changbin and Minho are always weird with each other, but they really do care about each other, don’t they?

Jisung sits on the edge of the bed, patting Changbin’s hand over Minho. He gets a weird look for it, but shrugs it off. “No? I mean, no, but also yes?”

“You’re really not making any sense.”

Yes, well, he _is_ aware of that. “Not exactly?”

Changbin sighs, sinking down so that he’s resting his chin on Minho’s shoulder instead. Jisung takes that as a sign to continue. 

“It’s just… I know that I’m not his Guide,” he begins, waiting for Changbin to nod until he remembers that would probably hinder his recovery. “That’s not it. It just feels like we don’t talk anymore.”

“Oh, you really should be talking about this with Chan hyung.”

Jisung scoffs. “Seungminnie gave me his advice, but have you seen Chan hyung and Felix? There’s no way I’m getting involved in that.”

“I have no idea what happened between them; Yongbokkie seemed fine last time I checked, but I really don’t want to know either.”

Jisung hums noncommittally. He can understand that, even if he’s a little more inclined to wanting to know what happened between them. “I think Minho hyung still likes me.”

Changbin chokes, attempting to cough quieter. Jisung waits for the weak sputters to die down before he checks on Minho to make sure he’s still asleep. “Hyung!”

Changbin brushes a lock of hair away from Minho’s eyes, the ends tickling his eyelashes. It feels oddly intimate, but that doesn’t make sense, so Jisung ignores it. “What do you mean, ‘still,’ didn’t you guys figure things out a while back?”

Oh, so Changbin knew too? “We never talked about it.”

He imagines Changbin rolling his eyes, and suggesting, like the unreasonable person he is, that they talk things out and address their feelings, but Changbin surprises him. “What makes you think he likes you, then?”

“He said I’m important to him,” Jisung pouts. He really doesn’t know how to get it across to Changbin that this really isn’t something that he and Minho do. That’s the nature of their unspoken thing. “I mean, I know he used to like me back when we were at the academy, but I thought he stopped around the time we graduated and he and Hyunjinnie specialized.”

“He did.” Changbin’s voice sounds a little odd, off somehow. “Jisungie, didn’t you guys talk about it?”

Despite Changbin repeating the question, he really has no idea what the older is trying to get at. “No? I would remember that, wouldn’t I?”

He freezes suddenly. “Wait, do you think this is my tell?” Then, remembering that Changbin wasn’t there when Minho explained tells, he begins to explain it to him. “Ah, right, tells are—”

Changbin cuts him off. “I know what they are. That’s definitely not a tell though. Do you remember something that gave you that idea?”

“Oh yeah, Minho hyung kissed me,” Jisung answers easily.

Rather than just accepting it, Changbin questions it, asking him for details he can’t even remember. “Why would I know what he was wearing? He kissed me. That means he likes me, right?”

“Jisungie, he and Hyunjin were racing when that ‘happened,’ how could you forget their most iconic race?”

Huh. He has to say he did not see this coming. “Their most iconic race?”

The sheets shuffle under them as Changbin shifts his position, leaning even more heavily on Minho. Jisung vaguely remembers Hyunjin saying something about physical contact helping with the sensory overload, and pats Minho’s hand awkwardly. “They almost got caught? Minho hyung and Hyunjinnie decided to go out with a bang, so they asked Seungminnie and Jeonginnie to add something that would let their hovercycles glow? They also raced straight through the plaza and really just went all out?”

It does sound like something Minho and Hyunjin would do, but the problem is that Jisung just doesn’t remember it.

“Huh,” he says out loud this time. “I guess Felix is the only one who doesn’t have a tell.”

“You’re not freaking out over your tell being Minho hyung kissing you and it not being real?”

Jisung shakes his head, leaning back against Minho’s legs. “Oh, no, I definitely am. That’s a pretty weird way for the simulation to remind me that we should have talked things out so we could have at least made out once before it became too weird. I’m not Hyunjinnie, we don’t have that kind of chemistry.”

Changbin makes a weird sort of stifled noise and Jisung doesn’t question it. Hyunjin and Minho are just weird, period. Together, they’re definitely even weirder. He doesn’t pretend to understand it either. “That’s… one way of looking at it.”

There’s a pause in the conversation before Changbin speaks again. “So, who else has a tell? I know Minho hyung talked about it before.”

See? This again. No wonder Jisung feels like he and Minho don’t talk anymore—even Changbin seems to know more about these types of things. Changbin must sense that this is what he’s thinking about, because he adds on before Jisung can even speak. “I only ask because I had talked to Minho hyung about simulations before when I was trying to see if he would be interested in 3racha’s online activities.”

The explanation helps, but it still doesn’t feel right. Really, it’s in the name. 3. Ra. Cha. Not 4racha. That wouldn’t even make any sense. “Well, Minho hyung said that he had one too.”

Changbin doesn’t say anything to that, so Jisung assumes he either already knew or just isn’t surprised by the news. He decides there’s no point in mentioning Changbin’s tell when talking to him, so he skips over that too. “Actually, all of us have already found our tells except for Felix.”

That seems to get his attention. “Yongbokkie hasn’t found his tell yet?”

Jisung thinks it’s cute, the way Changbin is the only one out of all of them that gets to call Felix by his Korean name. “Yeah, but—hey, wait a minute, how did you figure everything out so fast?”

“Jisung. I could hear all of you.”

Right, Hyunjin had mentioned having to sedate Changbin to get him to stop listening and actually rest. It makes sense that Changbin heard at least some of the conversation—and it saves them the time of having to explain it again.

“Well, Felix still doesn’t know, but it kind of makes sense because he wasn’t really looking for it. All of ours were really weird, but Felix notices pretty much everything, so his tell being super subtle does make sense.”

Changbin shrugs, leaning back down. Minho shifts subconsciously, turning towards Changbin. “His skin feels weird,” Jisung comments. “It’s cold and clammy.”

“You should get Hyunjin,” Changbin says. “The doctor? I know you two had this weird rivalry, but I thought you’d gotten over it.”

They had. “I honestly just forgot,” he admits. “Sorry, Minho hyung. I’ll get Hyunjin over to make sure that you’re doing okay.”

He’s almost out of the door when he remembers. “Ah, wait, hyung, thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Changbin mumbles, voice muffled by Minho’s arm. The older of the two has reclaimed Changbin as his pillow, almost as if he was drawn to him somehow. 

“Still. You were supposed to be resting.” 

Changbin hums affirmatively, the sedative kicking in once more. He’s asleep by the time Jisung closes the door behind him, calling Hyunjin over to check on them. “Minho hyung passed out and his skin is cold and clammy.”

Hyunjin raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “And you didn’t think to tell me when it happened?”

How Hyunjin knows it didn’t just happen is beyond Jisung. He would normally get mad about it, but he thinks that talking to Changbin has made him a little more pensive, slower to jump the gun on his thoughts. 

“Sorry, I forgot.” 

He’s also doubting some of his memories, but that’s part of the process, isn’t it?

* * *

Felix can’t fall asleep. He knows that 3racha’s security system will keep an eye on the Bureau and keep the Bureau’s eye off of them while they get some much needed rest, even if it isn’t necessarily sleeping. 

He’s still worried about Minho and Changbin, of course, but that’s not where his unease stems from. It’s less concrete and he can’t put a finger on what is causing this sudden anxiety. 

He sits up, the sofa noticeable harder than he remembers it being. He frowns, looking down, only to cut his hand on a sharp shard of glass.

“What the…” He trails off, light flooding his field of vision. He stands in an empty warehouse, as pristine as the day it was built. Lines of people wait on either side of him, facing forward with their arms robotically at their sides.

He thinks they might be androids, but the tables at the front of the lines prove him wrong. A sentient stands at each of the tables, administering a single dose of a chartreuse liquid through a needle before tossing the needle to the ground.

He winces at their wastefulness, somewhat surprised that the Bureau would allow such careless sentients to work for them. Under his feet, the building trembles.

He blinks, looking down to see the glass bouncing lightly against the concrete. He hears a familiar voice, but can’t place it until it yells, “duck!”

He opens his eyes, forgetting when he closed them in the first place, scrambling to his feet only to find that he’s back in Hyunjin’s office.

It’s almost like he never left, if it weren’t for the blood dripping from his hand. He squints at the cut, holding his hand up to the surprisingly bright light from the window. 

Huh.

The cut isn’t deep enough for stitches, so he doesn’t bother to wake Hyunjin up. He slips inside the consulting office turned clinic to grab a roll of bandages, rinsing the cut off in the sink by the corner.

“‘Lix?” Minho’s voice is deeper, slightly raspy. Felix winces.

“Sorry hyung, didn’t mean to wake you up.” Minho waves off his apology, untangling himself from Changbin to sit up, rubbing his temples as Felix tries to pat the cut dry, only for it to start bleeding again.

Minho huffs, taking the towel from Felix to press it against his palm. “You’re doing it wrong,” he murmurs, plucking a tube of silver colored paste from one of the shelves and moving the towel aside to apply it. The cut finally stops bleeding, but it still stings. “You have to put more pressure on it, remember?”

He does, now. He had been so preoccupied with the dream and what it could mean that he really just wasn’t paying as much attention to his wound than he needed to clean it and begin the healing process and all that.

He waits for Minho to ask him what happened, but the elder doesn’t question it as he wraps the bandages around the cut. “Hyunjin’ll be upset in the morning,” Minho muses, glancing over at Hyunjin, who’s sleeping at a fairly odd angle, perpendicular but also on top of Changbin, and presumably Minho, before he had gotten up. “Fortunately for you, that’s a superficial tear, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I think it’s my tell,” Felix admits. “I’m not sure how, but I had this really weird dream.” He nudges Minho back to the bed, seeing the elder rub his eyes. “Felt real though.”

“That’s good though,” Minho points out, pushing his hair from his eyes sleepily. His bangs fall back into them again and he huffs, pouting up at Felix. Felix smiles a little, pushing them aside for him, patting his head, dragging his fingers through the ends. “Not that you got hurt. That’s bad. But at least none of us’ll get hurt when we disconnect the simulation.”

Ah, there’s a matter of figuring that out too, isn’t there?

“How do you think we’re going to figure that out?” 

Minho shifts, thighs bracketing Felix’s legs as he pulls the younger one closer, arms wrapped around his waist. “Whenever we administer the simulations, we have certain protocols in place that let us pull out the participant whenever their neural networks signal anything close to an overload. That’s a last resort though, and I doubt any of us are near that kind of overload.” He pauses to yawn, and Felix remembers that Minho woke up from his sleep and was likely still tired. 

Not to mention he had previously passed out from exhaustion and here Felix is, keeping him awake.

Minho opens his mouth to continue, but Felix covers it with a hand, pushing Minho down so that he’s now resting his head on Changbin’s stomach. “We can figure that out later, hyung. You need to get some rest.” He’s surprised, pleasantly so, when Minho doesn’t argue with him, patting Changbin’s arm where it instinctively curls around him. 

Felix looks down at them and smiles oh so softly, the fondness bleeding through his expression. Ah, they really are adorable, aren’t they? The elder doesn’t let the moment last though, shifting so that he’s on his back, hand intertwined with the one Changbin had previously been running through his hair.

“Hi,” Minho whispers, giggling when Felix goes cross eyed trying to look at him. 

Felix grins back. “Hyung, you really need to get some rest; we can’t have you passing out again

Minho pulls Felix down with his free hand, though three people is a stretch, even with Hyunjin sprawled the way he is. Felix lands on Minho’s stomach with an oof, surprised. It reminds Felix of their time at the academy though, when Minho would get in late—from racing, he knows that now—and would be too exhausted to tell their beds apart, curling around Felix like a giant space heater. 

Minho initially apologized profusely, not wanting Felix to feel uncomfortable, but after the younger admitted that he slept better when cuddling with someone, Minho had all but moved their beds together, only moving them back again for dorm inspections.

“Hyung,” he whispers, Minho turning both of them slightly so that they’re on their sides. Minho hums in response. “There isn’t enough space for all of us.”

Minho giggles sleepily. “We can kick Hyunjinnie out,” he offers, and Felix snorts, looking at Hyunjin again. He might be incredibly good looking at any other time of day, but he really does sleep in some odd angles. It’s still just a joke though, and doesn’t give them any more space than they already have. 

Felix pats his arm. “Hyung, we can cuddle later; Changbin hyung might not have enough space.” Minho shakes his head, his bangs ruffling Felix’s neck, tickling him in the process. He squirms, trying to laugh quieter. “ _Hyuuuung_.”

Minho shakes his head again. “Just stay.” His words slur together sleepily, arms relaxing where he holds Felix, but not enough to let go. Felix sighs, shifting so that he’s comfortable too. Hyunjin turns in his sleep, legs falling over Felix’s and Minho’s once more. 

“Fine,” he mutters under his breath. He feels more than sees Minho’s smile against the back of his neck and melts into his hold. He lets Minho snuggle up to him, tugging Changbin over slightly with him. Minho inhales softly.

“Missed you Lixie.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was definitely a lighter chapter, in terms of plot (i think? i'm really terrible at gauging things - i get really caught up in the plot and the setting, so do tell me if the world building is *too* much), but can you tell i really like minlix dynamics? not to mention, we got a glimpse into the minsung drama and everything that jisung's thinking, but hmmm, there's definitely more to unpack there... 
> 
> also, skz season's greetings ??? they look so good ???
> 
> as always, i can't wait to read what you guys think in the comments below !! comments, kudos, and screaming are all much appreciated !! stay safe and take care <3


	8. [insinuate]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho raises an eyebrow, looking anywhere but at Changbin. “Remember how we ended it?”
> 
> Hyunjin flushes bright pink immediately. “Hyuuuung,” he whines, covering his face. “You don’t have to bring that up; that has nothing to do with any of this. Especially not in front—not here! Not now!” Hyunjin glances conspicuously at the door. “If Jisungie heard, he would kill me! He already thinks it was just him, which by the way makes no sense, because—” He gestures in Changbin’s direction, leaving him to frown at Hyunjin and Minho suspiciously. “—but also because the timing makes no sense, but you try telling him that.”
> 
> Minho frowns at that. “Hannie thinks we /kissed/?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been so long !! i really want to say i have a good excuse for this, and i mean, finals did throw me off my writing game, but then there were some, uh, plot issues that i could *not* get around (roshini, if you're reading this, i'm thinking of our spiderman meme rn and i should be embarrassed to say that it's the best advice i got but it's also the only advice i got so-)
> 
> just, forgive me and please read it

“If I have to look at one more file, I’m jumping out of the window.”

Changbin snorts, catching Chan’s eye as Jisung rolls on the floor dramatically. “Jisung, you’ve looked at three in the past  _ seven  _ days.”

Chan nods, looking up from his screen to make a face as Jisung continues to squirm like a worm. “Changbin’s looked at more files than you and he’s supposed to be recovering from a concussion.”

Changbin scrunches his nose. It doesn’t even feel like he has a concussion anymore. In fact, whenever he’s around Minho, he can’t even feel the faint pounding in the back of his skull. He supposes it has something to do with Minho’s Sentinel abilities, but he feels like there’s more to it than just that. Nowhere does it say that Sentinels can heal people just by proximity.

“He’s not supposed to be looking at files,” Hyunjin whines from across the room, leaning heavily against Seungmin. “He’s not supposed to be looking at screens at all, but  _ he never listens. _ ” Hyunjin raises his voice for those last three words, emphasizing them like Changbin couldn’t hear him perfectly fine before.

“Why are there so many files on S.T.A.Y?” Seungmin grumbles, gaze flitting back and forth between two separate screens. “The Bureau’s obsessed with the academy, I swear.”

Chan murmurs his agreement, setting his screen down and stretching. He glances up at the clock on the wall, watching the neon numbers shift as the minute ends. “Let’s take a break and map out our plan? I don’t think we’re going to make much more progress on the files today, let’s give it a rest.”

Felix nods, pulling out the projector from their movie nights and projecting the blueprints on the wall. He spins his finger over the surface and the walls rise, providing them a 3d view of the JYPCorp warehouse.

The warehouse itself is fairly complicated, the intricate tunnels weaving in and out in a way that seems unrealistic to even consider building. Changbin thinks this is only further proof that whatever is happening to them now isn’t real — to some extent. Minho’s pain seems pretty real for a simulation, if the way he’s still sleeping in Changbin’s lap is anything to go by. He’s got his arms around Changbin’s torso, and head pillowed on his thigh as he lies between Changbin’s legs. It’s a little uncomfortable to have to sit with his back to the armrest, but Minho’s warm enough that he doesn’t mind.

Felix perches himself on the armrest behind Changbin’s head, patting his hair. “Hyung, you should wake Minho hyung up so he can see this too.”

Oh, that’s something he really doesn’t want to do. He nudges Minho’s shoulder, gently shaking him awake. Minho mumbles something sleepily, blinking slowly. “Mm, I’m awake.” He doesn’t get up, just settling himself where he is, turning slightly so that he can see the hologram better. “Hi Lixie.”

Felix flushes, looking away. “Hi hyung. Are you feeling better?”

He nods, head rubbing against Changbin’s stomach like an overgrown cat. “Getting there.”

It’s not a particularly comforting answer, but it’ll do for now. Hopefully, they’ll get some proper time to rest and actually just sit down and breathe. Maybe after they took on JYPCorp.

Felix clears his throat, pointedly ignoring Minho’s sharklike smirk. “Okay, so this clearly isn’t really a building.”

“Clearly.” Hyunjin coughs at Jisung’s interruption, almost doubling over in his acting. Seungmin pats his back awkwardly, gesturing with his other hand at Felix to continue when Jisung pokes Hyunjin’s arm. Hyunjin retaliates immediately after, pinching Jisung’s ankle.

“But I think that’s what makes it the key to us getting out of here,” Felix continues, unphased by Hyunjin and Jisung’s bickering. “If we can find our way to the warehouse, we should be able to find the ‘portals’ and be able to wake up.”

Chan nods slowly. “Portals?”

“That’s the point where reality and the simulation meet,” Minho mumbles, cheek still squished comfortably against Changbin’s thigh. “The portal is the very point where we can rip apart the simulation and essentially break it down altogether.”

Changbin remembers Minho complaining about how annoying it was when they were designing portals initially. He’s so glad Minho and his team managed to fix things, because he really doesn’t want to see any particularly grotesque bodies on the other side. 

Then again, if their consciousnesses are still functioning without any issues, then their bodies are likely fine too. 

“We’ll obviously need to split up to go in, otherwise we’ll attract too much attention.” Felix zooms in on the hologram, the blue light falling over his face as he highlights a corridor in red. “This is where each of us has to go in separately. It’s hard to explain, but the simplest way of looking at it is realizing that each of us can only return to our body and no one else’s, so we each get our own corridor.”

So the building adapts to their consciousnesses collectively? Minho shifts to see a different part of the map, Changbin’s hand falling to rest on his head. He trails it through his hair, combing through the tangles at the longer ends. Minho leans into the touch even as he gestures at the diagram.

“What subunits were you thinking of?” He asks Felix. The younger of the two looks up, pointing at himself.

“Me?”

Minho snorts. “No, Hannie. Yes, you.”

Jisung makes a noise of complaint from where he’s sprawled over Hyunjin, the older one on his back and Jisung lying over his stomach perpendicularly. “Hey!”

“Logically, we would try to split you, me, and Hyunjin up,” Felix admits. “All of us are media trained and would be able to handle fooling them. We would also need to split up 3racha, so that each subunit would actually be able to get somewhere. And then we’d split up our engineers, but we only have two.”

Minho waves it off. “It’ll be fine. I can just break whatever if necessary.”

Changbin stops petting his hair. “Break whatever?”

Minho ignores his questions, moving his hand back to where it was petting his hair. “Changbinnie and I can manage without an engineer. Hannie, Hyunjinnie, and Seungminnie would work well and then Chan hyung, you and Jeonginnie can figure things out too?”

Those pairings are well balanced. Well, as balanced as they can get between the eight of them. Changbin thinks he and Minho might have an advantage even without an engineer, though he could easily be wrong. Chan and Felix have this insane chemistry together and can practically read each other’s mind. Jeongin is in good hands there; he’ll catch on perfectly and be safe. As for Hyunjin and Jisung, they might bicker all they want, but when so inclined, their focus is extraordinarily sharp. Seungmin with those three will help them all keep a level head and stay on track. 

Everyone seems to agree that those are the best pairings and after careful consideration, Felix and Minho draw out the best possible map for them, with lots of input from Chan and Seungmin. 

Changbin doesn’t bother with his advice, he thinks that they know best and that he really has no idea what any of the hallways mean. He’s always been the type of person to act before he thinks, a habit he has never been able to break. He used to think that Minho was like that too, back at the academy, but in these past few years together, he’s come to find that Minho is just as capable at strategizing and planning ahead. 

Minho’s unpredictable like that, he thinks. Always three steps ahead of everyone else, but somehow still managing to stay on their level. Truly unpredictable.

* * *

  
  


_ A month after Felix introduced Minho to the rest of them, Changbin noticed the way Jisung would hopelessly trail after him. The way Minho looked so  _ fond  _ whenever he looked at the younger.  _

_ And then they found out Minho was the one Hyunjin had been racing. _

_ Hyunjin, understandably, was surprised, but he wasn’t necessarily all that upset about it. He had this hero worship thing for the racer before that, and while finding out it was Minho hadn’t really changed anything, but it had faded naturally and the two of them only had this strange electric chemistry between them. _

_ Jisung, on the other hand, was furious. He demanded that both of them stop, which only served to aggravate the tentative relationship he and Hyunjin had been working towards improving. They fought through passive aggressive remarks that turned into bitter words. _

_ On the other hand, Jisung was just cold with Minho. He ignored the elder unless it was to bring up how he should stop racing. Changbin knew Minho hated hearing that and that racing was more than just a distraction, but it really wasn’t his place. Especially since he had assumed Minho would say something himself, but Minho never said anything to Jisung about it, not in front of all of them anyway. _

_ “He won’t understand,” Minho said one night, when he had convinced Changbin and Chan to join him up on the roof. Chan had gone back down only minutes prior after receiving a notification from one of his contacts. _

_ Changbin glanced over at Minho’s side, taking a moment to appreciate his profile: his long eyelashes, the high bridge of his nose. “Who, Jisung?” _

_ Minho huffed, lifting a hand from where he’d been leaning against the ground to push his bangs away from his eyes. “Yeah, Jisungie.” _

_ Changbin waited for him to elaborate. When it seemed like he had no plans to continue, Changbin decided to ask himself. “What makes you say that?” _

_ He didn’t answer immediately, looking at the cityscape around them warily, never really overcoming his fear of heights despite his… hobby. He stood up suddenly, immediately stepping down from the ledge they were sitting on and extending a hand to Changbin, who raised his eyebrows at Minho. “Come on, I want to show you something.” _

_ Changbin took his hand, the contrast between his own chipped red nails and Minho’s natural, unpainted ones catching his eye. “Where are we going?” _

_ Minho giggled, glancing over his shoulder to smirk at Changbin. “You’ll see.” _

_ Changbin gulped. That wasn’t exactly promising, and given Minho’s nature, this would likely be just as unpredictable as he was.  _

_ He did end up figuring out where they were going when Minho led them past an old S.T.A.Y warehouse—although, the mint green hovercycle in front of him gave it away just as easily. _

_ “Your hovercycle…?” Minho nodded.  _

_ “Hyunjinnie and I are going to stop soon enough, anyway,” he admitted wistfully, as if he really didn’t want to. “We’ll go out with a bang. Seungminnie and Jeonginnie helped paint them—they glow in the dark now. We’re going to race straight through the quad and the atrium too.” _

_ That was a worrisome idea. “Minho hyung—” _

_ Minho gave him a rueful smile. “We’ll be careful, I know. Jisungie and Chan hyung already told me not to compromise us, don’t worry.” _

_ Changbin frowned, tugging Minho closer with the hand he’s still holding. That wasn’t what he meant at all. “Hyung, that’s not what I was talking about.” _

_ Minho glanced down at their connected hands for a second, the tips of ears red when he looked up again. “Huh?” _

_ “Minho hyung, I don’t want  _ you  _ to get hurt or something,” he added hastily, his words too heavy for the cool night air. “I—we all care about you, hyung.” _

_ Minho smiled cryptically then, not quite happy but filled with something Changbin couldn’t quite decipher. He pulled Changbin even closer, but it was probably an accident considering how his eyes widened as soon as he realized how close that had put the two of them. “I know, Changbinnie.” His smile was softer then. He leaned over, turning Changbin with his other hand to gesture at his hovercycle. His next words are spoken directly into his ear and sent shivers down his spine. “Let’s go for a ride.” _

_ It really shouldn’t have had the impact on him that it did, considering Minho had already given both Felix and Jisung a ride, but the way that Minho was looking at him really didn’t help. He gulped, averting his eyes and letting Minho tug him over to the hovercycle.  _

_ He mourned the loss of contact when Minho let go of his hand to lift up the seat of the cycle and pull out two helmets. He raised an eyebrow at that. “You’re telling me you had helmets with you all along?” _

_ Minho huffed a laugh, throwing his leg over the cycle and patting the seat behind him. “No, of course not. I only got them when Felix asked me for a ride, and then Jisungie wanted to try too, so it seemed logical to keep it in case.” He glanced over his shoulder when he noticed that Changbin hadn’t gotten on yet and held the helmet out, fixing his own.  _

_ Changbin took it from him, settling behind Minho and taking in the setup. It was a little narrower than a normal hovercycle, like the ones the sentients or the Bureau used, but that was probably due to the modifications to make it more aerodynamic. _

_ “You might want to hold on,” was all Minho said before he kicked it into high gear, the hovercycle bursting out of the parking garage fast enough to have Changbin scrambling to grab Minho’s waist. Oddly enough, it was smaller than he expected it to be—almost as if Minho’s personality made up for the fact that he wasn’t necessarily the biggest in terms of his build. _

_ Not that Changbin was one to talk, though he did have a bigger build, he was easily quite a bit shorter than Minho.  _

_ Still, Minho had always had a larger than life aura to him, making him stand out without any effort to do so. _

_ Minho only laughed, leaning into his hold as he sped up, twisting the hovercycle expertly around tight corners. Changbin pressed closer when Minho sped up, steering the hovercycle strategically away from the Bureau’s scanners and cameras, until they reached the Ledge at the district limit. He lowered them onto the widest part of the Ledge, turning the hovercycle off and taking his helmet off at the same time before freezing. _

_ By the time Changbin noticed, he had already gotten off the hovercycle and was standing on the other side, waiting. “Hyung?” _

_ “I can’t get down,” Minho mumbled, hand shaking slightly where he could see it. “I looked at the other side.” _

_ How odd he was, scared of heights and yet easily throwing himself into a race that rocketed him to the highest of them all. Changbin held out his hand this time, prying the helmet from his hand and setting it down on the concrete. “Hyung, look at me.” _

_ Minho did, eyes blown wide with fear. “Binnie?” His voice was small, weak in a way that Changbin had never heard before, never wanted to hear again.  _

_ He patted Minho’s thigh gently to draw his attention. “Slide off slowly on this side. I’ll catch you.” The hovercycle wasn’t even high enough for that, but he doubted Minho’s legs weren't shaking, so he offered, knowing that the stability would help him.  _

_ Minho followed, sliding his leg over slowly as he gritted his teeth. “Changbinnie…” He trailed off warningly, leaning forward slightly before squeezing his eyes shut.  _

_ “Hyung, you’re fine.” Changbin lowered his voice, holding both his hands out. “You can slide down as slow as you want, or you can just jump. Either way, I’ll catch you.” _

_ “It’s too high.” _

_ “I know,” Changbin murmured. “I know. But you can do this, okay?” _

_ Minho muttered something under his breath, sliding forward slightly, but slipping too far forward. He shrieked, arms wrapping too tightly around Changbin’s shoulders and burying his face in his shoulder. Changbin’s arm instinctively wrapped around his waist, surprised at how badly he was trembling. “Hyung, you’re fine now.” _

_ Minho hummed, though it sounded a bit shaky. He didn’t let go of Changbin either, just inhaled deeply and pressed closer. “Just give me a second.”  _

_ When he did feel better, he only leaned back slightly, putting them close enough that their noses were practically touching, arms resting where he had draped them over Changbin’s shoulders. Changbin almost went cross eyed to maintain their eye contact, flushing at the intensity of Minho’s gaze, but Minho only smiled sweetly. “Knew you would catch me.” _

  
  


Three days after planning their break in, Hyunjin deems Changbin healthy and healed enough to proceed. Changbin thinks Hyunjin knows about him and Minho, and that that influences his decision to let him participate in their operation, but he doesn’t want to jeopardize it, so he doesn’t ask. 

He thinks Minho knows too, with the way he sticks to Changbin more often, leaning on his shoulder or playing with his hand absentmindedly or pulling him closer whenever they’re sleeping. 

One day after Hyunjin thinks he’s healthy enough, he clears Minho too, though he  _ is  _ outwardly more hesitant about that. 

“Hyung, you really shouldn’t exert yourself like that,” Hyunjin warns him. “I don’t know what effect the suppressants will have on you if you do—you took them for a while and the effects have never been studied.”

“I don’t know what happened either, though?” Hyunjin looks to Changbin, who shakes his head. 

“I was unconscious,” he points out, watching Minho bite his lip and look away. He reaches out for his hand, intertwining their fingers. It’s become more natural these days, to just reach out and initiate skinship with Minho. “I don’t think any of us would have made it out of there if it wasn’t for hyung though.”

He knows that Minho has been struggling with accepting his identity as a Sentinel and that there’s only so much he can do to help with that aspect of things, but he hopes that his support will help, at least a little bit.

Minho says nothing, eyeing their hands carefully. He taps the chipped black nail polish that coats his nails with his other hands, still not looking up when he speaks. “Felix doesn’t know what happened either.”

This doesn’t come as a surprise to Hyunjin—or Changbin, for that matter. “Well, yeah, Felix isn’t a Sentinel.”

Minho still flinches minutely at the words, but it’s obvious enough that Hyunjin notices. “I’ll be fine; I can handle what we’ve planned so far.”

Hyunjin runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “I didn’t say you couldn’t handle it, hyung. I’m suggesting that you avoid it because we don’t know how the suppressants affected you.”

“Remember our last race?”

The question surprises both of them, but Hyunjin nods slowly, frowning as he inevitably tries to puzzle together what their last hovercycle race has to do with anything. 

For his part, Changbin remembers it clearly, but it could very well be because of what Hyunjin and Minho did at the end or because he had talked about it with Jisung so recently. 

Minho raises an eyebrow, looking anywhere but at Changbin. “Remember how we ended it?”

Hyunjin flushes bright pink immediately. “Hyuuuung,” he whines, covering his face. “You don’t have to bring that up; that has nothing to do with any of this. Especially not in front—not here! Not now!” Hyunjin glances conspicuously at the door. “If Jisungie heard, he would kill me! He already thinks it was just him, which by the way makes no sense, because—” He gestures in Changbin’s direction, leaving him to frown at Hyunjin and Minho suspiciously. “—but also because the timing makes no sense, but you try telling him that.”

Minho frowns at that. “Hannie thinks we  _ kissed _ ?”

Changbin chokes unceremoniously. He has no idea if Minho’s referring to Jisung’s strange tell or if he’s implying something else about Hyunjin and Minho.

Hyunjin only flushes further, tugging his hair over his face. “Hyung! He could  _ hear _ you!”

Minho remains undeterred, ignoring Hyunjin’s increasingly flustered state. “Where did he come up with that? He knows that—” Minho cuts himself off. “Well, he knew how I felt about him but that’s just cruel.”

He sounds so dejected that Changbin almost ignores his words to try and comfort him, but when it hits, he freezes. Does this mean Jisung and Minho had talked about it, in some manner at least?

Hyunjin gives him a sympathetic look, batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly. “He liked you too, back then, you know?”

Minho scoffs, shaking his head. “When I say we missed our chance, I mean we missed it. Completely. I never said anything because I knew—he’s only upset now because he’s realizing it.”

Missed their chance… So Jisung and Minho had liked each other but not at the same time? Changbin thinks that’s wrong, but then again, he really has no idea how Minho felt at the time. Jisung had started liking him sometime around their last race but—

Oh.

Hyunjin shrugs, an attempt at being coy. “I mean, hyung, my offer is always open. If you’re ever interested again.”

Minho breaks into a fit of giggles, sending Hyunjin into his own. He swats at Hyunjin’s arm, the younger laughing too hard to dodge. “You’re insufferable, really. I was never interested to begin with—neither were you, don’t start—and we did it one hundred percent for show.”

Hyunjin manages to tame his laughter a little, giggling slightly when he speaks. “It was enjoyable though; I really wouldn’t mind for that, but you have other plans, don’t you?”

“Do I?” Minho asks loftily, playing with Changbin’s fingers, tapping the chipped nail polish. It’s almost gone now, but it’s lasted fairly long considering the last time it had been painted was when Minho had asked to crash at the convenience store a month before all this drama started. 

It's trivial enough, but it only reminds Changbin of how long Minho has likely struggled with the sensory overload and everything else being a Sentinel preceded. He only hopes that their late nights helped, even just a little.

Minho’s hand brushes over the coordinates inked on the inside of his wrist, nudging him slightly. Changbin looks up, blinking. “Hmm?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “I really can’t think of anything to stop you guys other than the fact that this is a terrible idea, but I mean, we all know that.”

_ We don’t have a choice,  _ remains unspoken. 

A soft knock on the door draws their attention. Felix pokes his head in, fluffy blue bangs falling over the bandana around his forehead. “Sorry, Hyunjin, did you need more time?”

Hyunjin shakes his head, pushing his hair back behind his ear. “No, you’re good. Is everything okay?”

Felix slips inside, closing the door behind him. “Depends on how you define okay,” he mumbles, clutching a screen tightly. “You can’t tell Chan hyung that this is part of the plan.”

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “Okay, but telling  _ Minho hyung and Changbin hyung _ is okay?” 

Felix bites his lip. “I mean, Changbin hyung really didn’t have to know…”

Changbin nods slowly. “That’s how it is, huh, Yongbokkie?”

“Sorry, hyung,” Felix mutters sheepishly. “You’re almost as overprotective as Chan hyung.”

“And  _ Minho hyung _ isn’t?” He knows he sounds a little incredulous, but Minho definitely is just as protective as Chan when it comes to all of them, especially Felix, but that’s understandable—everyone has a soft spot for Felix.

Minho rolls his eyes. “Really loving all the emphasis on my name here, but if it’s what I think it’s about then, Lixie, you really didn’t have to worry about Changbinnie.”

Changbin has clearly missed something here, but he’s going to wait to see how this plays out before he speaks.

Felix eyes him oddly suspiciously before shaking his head at Minho. “Minho hyung, I don’t know what you’re talking about but you’re definitely wrong about that.” He holds up the screen, spinning it around to display a mint green hovercycle. “You could also look out of the window and you’d see it.”

They all turn to look, and sure enough, the familiar hovercycle is hologrammed throughout the city, projected wherever it can be. Old race records of Minho from his time with ARMY shuffle through, but the hovercycle remains the most prominent. 

Next to the hovercycle pulses the word ‘wanted,’ spinning on a pedestal. 

“They still don’t know who you are, I think,” Felix reassures them. “The distortion technology must have worked, even through the video footage of your races. They’re not after Hyunjin though, so they might know.”

Minho nods, still looking at the hovercycle. “If they aren’t looking for Hyunjin—and he’s a medic; he’s actually important to the people and not just the Bureau—then they definitely know. But that’s why you want me to be the distraction, right?”

Felix bites his lip again, looking from Hyunjin to Changbin and then back to Minho again. “Yeah.”

Changbin frowns, squeezing Minho’s hand to get his attention. “What, so we’re just sending you out on a hovercycle to distract another army of androids?”

“The Bureau can’t send out androids publicly without sending the district into panic. It’ll probably be sentients, or their own Sentinels.”

_ “Their own Sentinels?” _

Hyunjin nods. “Right, Jackson talked about it. Apparently the Bureau has recruited their own Sentinels, though I don’t know how.”

To some extent, it does make sense that the Bureau would have their own Sentinels—not everyone is as lucky as Minho to have worked with a Sentinel previously, or Felix to have prior knowledge on Sentinels. But what he really wants to know is—

“Doesn’t none of that matter now? Since this is all just a simulation?”

That.

Minho smirks, finally looking away from the holograms dancing on the tops of skyscrapers. “Exactly.”

Well. That’s concerning.

* * *

  
  


It turns out that whatever Minho plans on doing next, he deliberately chooses to not share it with the rest of them. In fact, he seems particularly decided to avoid even bringing it up in front of Changbin at all costs. 

Changbin… well, he really doesn’t know how to react to that. There’s only so much he can think about that, somehow—and he feels incredibly guilty for this—fixating on Hyunjin and Minho’s conversation instead. It’s like understanding what happened is on the tip of his tongue, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t will himself to get it.

Or maybe he just doesn’t want to think about what that means. 

Of course, it’s never that simple when it comes to Minho, so in the last hour before they leave for the warehouse, Minho tugs him into Hyunjin’s clinic. He’s a little surprised, admittedly, since he was supposed to be one of the last ones to get dressed, but Minho doesn’t even seem to realize where they are for a moment.

“Hyung?”

Minho blinks, once, twice, long eyelashes fanning out. He tilts his head slightly. “Hmm?”

Changbin raises their connected hands where Minho is holding his wrist. “Wasn’t I supposed to be the last one to change?”

Minho looks at their wrists, then back at Changbin. “Oh. Were you?”

What?

Changbin nods slowly. “Yeah… Hyung, are you okay?”

Minho nods, and he really does seem okay from what Changbin can see. A little on edge maybe, but that has to be understandable given what they’re about to do, right? “Why wouldn’t I be?” It’s unfinished, almost like he’s holding himself back from saying something. Changbin waits, giving him a chance to finish.

“Oh, right, take off your shirt.”

The words are said casually, but they leave Changbin sputtering as he looks up at Minho. “What?!” 

But the elder of the two is unphased, eyes sincere as he nods, letting go of their joined hands to tug on the ends of Changbin’s tshirt. “Yeah, take it off.”

Changbin thinks he’s frozen, the tips of Minho’s fingers brushing against his waist. “Hyung, now really isn’t the time for  _ that _ .” He isn’t sure if he’s misreading this, but he is sure that even if he is, it’s on Minho for looking at him like that. Seriously, the way his eyes sparkle should be illegal. 

Minho, on the other hand, pulls away sharply, eyes wide as he shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant at all!” His ears are bright red, and it creeps up his cheeks too. Cute.

Changbin flushes too, more out of embarrassment at assuming than anything else. “Well, what else was I supposed to think? You basically asked me to strip for you, hyung!”

Minho shakes his head again, soft hair falling over his eyes. “Changbinnie, I swear—I didn’t ask you to strip for me! That’s not—we have to leave in an hour!” He’s crossed his arms over his chest and calmed down a bit, but his ears are still red and his cheeks are still pink. He looks pretty—he always does—but there’s something insecure in the way he looks at the floor.

Changbin steps closer, cupping Minho’s face so he can meet his eyes. “Minho hyung.”

Minho stubbornly looks anywhere but Changbin. Changbin sighs, stepping back and pulling his shirt off, throwing it to the side. It lands somewhere on the bed the four of them had squeezed into a couple of nights ago. He steps back in front of Minho, who is looking at him with suspicious eyes, wide with disbelief. 

(His cheeks are still adorably pink, and his ears are probably still just as red, even if his hair is covering them now.)

Changbin suppresses a sigh internally as he takes Minho’s hands and places them on his bare waist, leaning closer at how warm they are. He leans back into Minho’s space in an attempt to get him to meet his eyes, but the elder is still trying to avoid his gaze. “Hyung.”

Still, Minho’s hands settle comfortably where they are, even if he’s still flustered—embarrassed? mad? uncomfortable? Changbin hopes it isn’t any of those, but he really can’t tell—and won’t look at him. His lips part as if about to say something but he just presses them together. 

Changbin leans closer, their noses brushing gently against each other. “Minho hyung.”

Minho sighs, his shoulders relaxing below Changbin’s triceps as he closes his eyes. “What do you want?” The fight leaves his body, shoulders sagging considerably. 

Changbin waits to say something, leaving Minho in enough suspense that he opens his eyes, flushing further when he sees how close they are. “Minho.”

He knows he’s really pushing it at this point and that he shouldn’t be dropping honorifics as casually as he is, but really, he just wants Minho to be comfortable enough to be honest with him. Even if that means that Minho slaps him later for the (unintentional) disrespect. In all honesty, he thinks Minho might even pull away and mentally crosses his fingers that he doesn’t.

Instead, Minho  _ blushes,  _ wide eyed as he stares at Changbin. He stares back, fully caught up in how pretty Minho’s eyes are, like they hold the galaxy within them and a trip to the stars is only a glance away.

Minho blinks rapidly, clearing his throat.

Oh! Right, he is supposed to be saying something. He opens his mouth to speak, momentarily forgetting what he was going to say when Minho’s gaze dips down to his lips. 

And just like that, the tables are turned.

“Changbinnie?” Minho’s voice is low, almost warning when he meets his eyes again. He trails his fingers up and down against Changbin’s side, tapping a familiar rhythm against it. 

Changbin swallows thickly, blurting something out for the sake of it and then regretting it immediately when Minho raises an eyebrow.

“Okay?” He doesn’t expect Minho to agree, or to accept it as easily as he does, and curses under his breath when Minho tosses his shirt to the side too. 

Changbin is quick to realize that, while this is completely his fault for getting himself into this situation, he’s absolutely screwed. He takes a step back, just in case Minho wants to fight him or something, but he just stalks forward, eyes deceptively innocent.

His hands reclaim their spot on Changbin’s waist, leaning forward close enough that Changbin can’t even see the little mole on his nose anymore. “What, you don’t have anything to say now?”

Uh. Well, he does, but he’s pretty sure it would be pretty incoherent, so he just bites his lip and stays quiet so his mouth can’t mess things up.

When Minho’s gaze dips lower again, he expects something to come of it. 

What he doesn’t expect: Minho pulling him into a tight hug and resting his chin on his shoulder to look outside the glass window panel in front of him. “You smell nice.”

Changbin hums, exhaling when he thinks things have finally calmed down. “Hyunjin’s shampoo.”

He can practically Minho’s face of disdain at the mention of their younger friend and grins, but Minho is quiet for a minute too long to just be scowling about Hyunjin. He’s about to ask if Minho has finally decided to air fry Hyunjin when he feels lips press against his neck.

He freezes. “Minho hyung?”

Minho hums. “What?” The word is pressed into his skin gently, sending shivers down his spine and bringing goosebumps to his arms. He leans back slightly to look at Changbin, eyes just as innocently wide as always, but stars sparkling with a hint of mischief.

Suddenly, Changbin feels bad for having to bring this up when Minho’s in such a good mood. When he seems like he is genuinely feeling better from how tired he’s been these past few days. “Hyung, we never talked about it.”

It’s a terrible start and he wants to kick himself for how vague it is, but Minho just tilts his head to the side, expression unchanging. “Huh?”

“I’m your Guide, right?” 

There. He said it. He still stands by his words that it makes no sense for him to be Minho’s Guide, but Minho  _ knows  _ so he isn’t going to keep questioning it either. Especially if there’s something he can do as a Sentinel’s Guide that will help Minho in any way.

Minho nods slowly. “Yeah, why?”

It’s odd. He expects more, maybe some frustration from Minho at how long it’s taken him to say it, but he seems to just be taking it all in stride. “Then why haven’t you gotten better?”

Minho stiffens and Changbin jumps to apologize, holding his hands in place to keep him from moving away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Minho shakes his head, bangs falling in his eyes. “It’s fine; it’s not that.”

“Then?”

“It’s fine, though?” Changbin raises his eyebrows. Minho stares back just as defiantly.

He sighs, breaking their eye contact and looking back out the glass, the neon haze reflecting against his skin, casting cyan shadows. “Drop it, Changbin.”

In this light, his eyes shine too brightly, almost differently from how they normally sparkle, but he can’t be sure. There’s no way to turn off the outside lights, so he thinks it might just be their interference that’s causing his eyes to look different. After all, lighting changes colors doesn’t it?

“If I’m supposed to be your Guide, you’re supposed to tell me stuff,” Changbin points out, undeterred. He reaches up to move Minho’s hair from his eyes, the soft strands flitting between his fingers as he brushes them aside. “Hyung, I want to help.”

When Minho meets his eyes, his gaze is intense, eyes darkening despite the rosy light. “You do help.”

Changbin nods slowly, licking his lips. “But you’re still not better.”

Minho purses his lips. “I’m not, no.”

Despite knowing this to be true, it still hurts to hear Minho confirm it so casually, like he doesn’t even care. Changbin turns around slightly in Minho’s hold to look out the window too. Minho only presses closer, draping himself over Changbin’s back. “It’s funny though, it really doesn’t feel like it.”

“You said you’re not better, but that doesn’t mean you’re worse, does it?” A hovercycle takes off from the tallest building in his field of vision. He watches it fly into the maze that is the district before he loses sight of it. He feels Minho shrug again, skin warm as it always is.

“I don’t know.” His voice is small, and so, so, tired. Changbin tries to turn around, but Minho’s arms hold him in place as the elder dips his head to rest his forehead against his shoulder. “I should, right? All that time with ARMY, working with the most powerful Sentinel of our generation—”

“Hyung, you’re the most powerful Sentinel of our generation,” Changbin cuts in not unkindly. And that’s when it hits him. 

It’s his fault Minho manifested so early. His fault Minho has been struggling with all this, all because his Guide called his Sentinel into existence.

“It’s really not though,” Minho muses. “If you hadn’t, I would have been torn apart by the two dimensions. I’m assuming in the context of the simulations, it means not being able to come out of the simulation.”

Does he think that Sentinels are the bridge between reality and the simulation then?

Wait, can he read minds?

“You’ve said all of that aloud,” Minho says, mildly amused. “The bridge between reality and simulations… it has to be a little more complicated than that though, that would be too easy.”

“We could all use some too easy right now though.” A hovercraft touches down on the landing pad closest to them. “Not to jinx it or anything. What makes you say that?”

“Because I can manipulate the simulation,” Minho mumbles into his shoulder. “Felix saw it. Jeonginnie and Seungminnie saw it when the androids caught up to us—although, to be fair, I wasn’t in complete control when that happened.”

The lighting shifts from pink to cyan, a gradient of neon across their skin. “I don’t remember that happening?”

It’s the wrong thing to say. There’s clearly something about that event that had—has—Minho on edge that he hasn’t talked about yet, and forcing him to say it feels insensitive.

“Yeah, well you were unconscious, I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Harsh, but he supposes that’s fair. “What happened, then?”

Minho exhales shakily, pulling Changbin even closer, if that’s possible. They’re pressed against each other from head to toe at this point—and not that he minds—but he’s oddly conscious of the amount of skin contact they’ve had with each other lately. 

Especially after whatever the heck just happened.

“The android hit you,” Minho murmurs, a barely audible tremor in his voice. “I bent the simulation to keep the force of impact from killing you, but I really don’t remember much from after that. All I know now, is that if it weren’t a simulation, you would probably be dead.”

It sounds more serious when he puts it like that.

“Like in the simulation?”

Minho shakes his head, hair brushing against Changbin’s neck. He reaches a hand up to card through it, accidentally brushing Minho’s cheeks. “Brain dead.”

Cheeks that are suspiciously wet.

He turns around in Minho’s hold this time, not sure if he’s being too harsh on Minho’s arm or if the elder has given up on holding him back. “Hyung.”

Minho looks down, hair obscuring his eyes from Changbin’s view. He exhales sharply when Changbin’s hand rests against his cheek, tilting his face back up. 

“Minho hyung, we didn’t even know about the simulation when that happened,” Changbin reminds him. 

Minho shakes his head. “That’s what makes it worse. If it had happened to your actual body, it would have been an instant death. Sentinels have no power in the real world.”

Changbin doubts that’s true. And at any rate, especially not for Minho. For his hyung to have manifested as early on as he did, and to be the strongest Sentinel possible, there has to be more to it in the outside world. Being able to manipulate the simulation must hold a different kind of weight in their reality, whatever it is.

He doesn’t bring that up though, this just isn't the time for that. Minho was—and probably still is, come to think of it—worried about him, and he needs to get Minho to understand that he  _ is  _ fine.

Minho’s shaking now and Changbin knows his words aren’t going to be enough to convince him that he’s okay, so he pushes Minho back gently so that he’s sitting on the bed, Changbin standing between his legs. It’s reminiscent of when Chan first administered the suppressant—and that’s something else to worry about, but they’ll have to do that after this—back in 3racha’s workspace in the buried district.

Minho looks back down, leaning forward enough to pull Changbin closer, arms wrapped around his waist and face buried in his torso. “I’m sorry, Changbinnie.”

Changbin scoffs, running a hand through Minho’s hair while the other draws aimless patterns on his back. “It’s not your fault. I’m the one that called your Sentinel into existence, remember?”

Minho huffs a wet laugh. “You’re… really just something else.”

Changbin shrugs, surprising the elder by finally sitting down in Minho’s lap. “Coming from you?”

Minho laughs genuinely this time, eyes crinkling up as he leans into Changbin, laughing with his whole body. His voice is so soft, so fond, when he manages to speak through his laughter. “Coming from me, yeah.”

Changbin lets himself appreciate this moment for just a little longer, soaking in Minho’s natural warmth and how soft his skin is before he stands, pulling Minho up with him. “Come on, hyung, we have to get ready.”

Minho hums quietly in agreement. “You don’t smell like Hyunjin’s shampoo.”

Changbin chokes. “Is that your way of saying you’ve developed a werewolf nose?”

Minho giggles. “No, just that that’s not  _ Hyunjin’s  _ shampoo.”

_ Then whose is it?  _ is on the tip of his tongue, but Minho tosses him one of his own shirts. It’ll be a little big for Changbin, but it’ll help them blend in with the other Bureaucrats, so he can make do with it. 

They strip and change into the Bureaucrat uniforms quickly enough, helping each other string the wires through their clothes before lacing up their boots.

Changbin will outwardly grumble about how much the boots emphasize their height difference, but he inwardly thinks they suit Minho well enough that he doesn’t really mean any of his complaints. 

When they’re ready, he stops Minho before they leave by grabbing his forearm. Minho raises an eyebrow and tilts his head curiously. “Wait.”

Changbin reaches up to brush a finger under his left eye, making sure that they’re dry when he pulls away. Minho stares at him, eyes wide. “Huh?” He doesn’t answer, doing the same under his right eye as well. 

“Okay, we can go now.”

Minho rolls his eyes playfully, leaning forward to rest his head against Changbin’s, lightly tapping their foreheads together. “ _ Okay _ , Seo Changbin.”

Changbin smirks. “Okay,  _ Lee Minho _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha hahaha hahaha   
> that was so painful to write i swear, i, for the life of me, could not figure out how to increase the tension or escalate the romance (and they haven't even kissed yet TT imagine my pain when i finally have to figure that out *shudders*) but i'm kind of proud of myself for making it this far? 
> 
> as always, i appreciate all comments and kudos and feedback and theories (especially for this chapter bc it was really hard to write, and i would just love to know if i actually did them justice or if it fell flat)


	9. [detonate]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hi.”
> 
> Minho grins back. “Hi.”
> 
> Changbin turns him back around, still pressed against his back. “The pancakes are going to burn.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm baaaack, did you miss me? this chapter was honestly so fun to write, even if it took a little longer to write it, and i hope you guys like what i did with the style !!

For the record, Jisung wasn’t all that confident in the plan to begin with. Yes, he believes in Chan, Minho, Felix, and Seungmin’s abilities to be rational and strategize, but he just doesn’t think that the overall plan is the best.

Is this because he doesn’t want to go to the warehouse? Partly. He’s definitely a bit spooked by tells, his in particular, and he really doesn’t want to know what comes next in terms of the simulation.

In fact, that’s another reason why he’s been so hesitant—they might know that they are in a simulation, but what comes next? How do they get out of it? 

Not to mention Minho and Changbin disappearing off to the side while both Felix and Hyunjin pretended not to notice. What’s that all about, he wonders.

“Are you ready?” Hyunjin’s voice is quiet, but it still startles Jisung. He flinches, almost tripping.

“Shhh,” he hisses, pretending his own tendency to startle easily had nothing to do with his reaction. “I guess? Where did Minho hyung go?”

Hyunjin shrugs, deliberately stalling. “How would I know? You know Minho hyung and Changbin hyung, they’re just… like that.”

Whatever that means?

Jisung nods slowly. “Right… And this doesn’t have anything to do with the hovercycle that just flew past the window?”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen, spinning around to look at the window. “What hovercycle?”

Huh. That wasn’t him acting. But at least Jisung knows now that it has something to do with a hovercycle. 

Which reminds him of their racing days. “If Minho hyung’s racing, then why aren’t you?”

Hyunjin frowns at him. “What do you mean, Minho hyung is racing? And I mean, either way, between the two of us, Minho hyung is better on a hovercycle. He definitely has more experience and really knows how to handle the bike.”

“So he is racing?” Hyunjin’s expression is unchanging as he shakes his head.

“No? Why would he be racing?”

Jisung is this close to ripping his hair out. He can’t tell if Hyunjin really doesn’t know or if he’s acting, and it’s  _ so frustrating.  _

“Then why are he and Changbin hyung missing?”

Felix slips by them, eyes focused on the screen in his hands. “Drop it, Hannie.” He doesn’t spare them a glance as he walks by still focused on the map in his hands. “Chan hyung, this is the main point…”

His voice trails off as he gets farther from where Jisung and Hyunjin are standing. “Changbin hyung says he can turn off the cameras in the building for eight minutes. That gives us barely enough time to get out of here and to the hovercycles.”

So they  _ are  _ racing?

“We’re not racing, Jisung.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes. Jisung must have accidentally said that out loud. “A hovercraft would draw too much attention, especially since we’re splitting up. It makes more sense to take the hovercycles. We’re two to a hovercycle—Minho hyung is driving his and Changbin hyung’s, Felix is driving his and Chan hyung’s, I’m driving ours, and Seungmin is driving his and Jeongin’s. Minho hyung’s just going to drop Changbin hyung off at their rendezvous point before sending his hovercycle the long way around to distract them.

“If the Bureau sees his hovercycle, maybe they’ll move enough of their security towards taking care of that ‘threat’”—he makes quotes in the air with his fingers—“that we’ll be able to get through easily enough.”

“Seungmin and Jeongin are on different teams, though?” Hyunjin nods as if he expected Jisung to ask about that. 

“Right, but our drop off points are close enough that their teams can wait for them to meet up before we head inside.”

“And Minho hyung will be safe?” 

Hyunjin looks away. “None of us are safe. Objectively, Minho hyung is the safest because he’s a Sentinel, but without his Guide, I don’t know how much control he has over his abilities—or if he’ll be perfectly fine. As long as they don’t try anything auditory on him, he should be safer than us, I would think.”

Jisung nods slowly, absorbing the information, before he glances at the three dimensional model at the side, taking in the various passages. He thinks he understands now what the others meant about it not making structural sense. The warehouse itself is a clear rectangular shape, but the passages twist in ways that modern architecture has yet to be able to achieve in the way that it does.

Still, despite the freakish architecture and general ominity of it being the source of their current hallucinogenic state, there’s something ominous about the JYPCorp warehouse that just makes him want to run in the opposite direction, even if he knows that the warehouse is the key to them getting out of this simulation.

“We’re leaving in two minutes,” Chan announces. “Hyunjin, Jisung?”

“We’re ready.” Hyunjin sounds significantly more confident than him, but for once, Jisung doesn’t bother to try and right that. He’s nervous about this, and equally hesitant. 

Who wouldn’t be?

Changbin and Minho stumble out of Hyunjin’s clinic, looking somehow more disheveled than they did when they went in to change, which was not something Jisung normally would have worried about, if it wasn’t for Hyunjin winking the minute he sees them. Both of their hyungs roll their eyes at Hyunjin, so maybe it’s not that serious.

At least, neither of them is missing like he thought they were. 

He’s still suspicious of whatever Hyunjin, Minho, and Felix have thought of that has all three of them avoiding each other’s eyes, but they haven’t done anything yet, so he’ll try to focus more on the plan at hand instead. 

He skims through Changbin’s code, double checking to make sure that the elder hasn’t missed anything, and when he’s sure of it, he hands the screen back to Chan to check over it too. For a second, it feels like they’re back in 3racha’s workspace, checking over each other’s work as they slowly infiltrate the Bureau’s system.

Of course, things had been a lot more simple back then, considering that they weren’t in a simulation, but still, the feeling of it all is similar. 

When Chan is sure that the code is sound, Changbin launches it. Within seconds, the building is plunged into darkness, the only visible light from Felix’s screen, which Changbin had rerouted an old power source to so it would still work. 

They slip through the hallways unnoticed amidst the various medics rushing through the halls to save their research. 

Little do they know how pointless it is, considering none of this is real. 

Jisung wonders if there are others like them, trapped in the simulation. He thinks of the Sentinels Minho and Felix might have known and hopes they find a way out too, if they haven’t already.

Can the actions of others affect the simulation the eight of them are in?

* * *

  
  


The warehouse is far shorter than the majority of the buildings in the district, but it’s the eerie lingering feeling of familiarity that Felix can’t seem to shake. It’s almost like deja vu, with the concrete walls.

It’s only when they enter that he realizes what it’s from. 

_ —an empty warehouse, as pristine as the day it was built— _

_ —needles filled with a translucent chartreuse liquid, people lining up to receive the injection— _

_ —glass bouncing against the concrete— _

_ —”duck!”— _

Felix shakes his head to clear his mind. He needs to focus, and thinking off that weird dream of a tell isn’t going to help him in any way. Minho has already distracted the sentients at the front too, drawing them out with his hovercycle after dropping Changbin off by the back entrance. 

Felix hopes he’s met up with Changbin once more and is safe, but until they all find the center of this maze, he won’t know for sure.

“We need to split up again,” he murmurs to Chan. “Take Jeonginnie with you to the left, I’ll take the right—Seungminnie will meet me at the end of whatever’s there on the right.”

Chan nods, flipping his visor back down, the little circle screen over his eye glowing faintly before dimming again. “On your mark.”

Felix nudges Jeongin, tilting his head at Chan. Their youngest nods once, sharply, before following after Chan. Felix slips away to the right, muscles tense as he follows the winding hallway. 

He knows that Changbin has used Jisung’s code to take down the cameras in the warehouse, if there are any—that’s a doubt he’s had since they figured out this whole thing was a simulation—there’s no reason for a fictional company to have security cameras in a simulation anyway. He’s pretty sure if Minho tried, he could get the cameras to disappear altogether.

As if he’s spoken the words into existence, a message lights up his screen:

_ Took the cameras out. Changbin says we have eight minutes before they come online again.  _

In other words? Hurry up.

Felix picks up the pace, practically jogging as he follows the curves of the hallway, oddly aware of the lack of doors and windows despite the length of the hallway. He ignores the cold sensation trailing down his spine in favor of speeding up, nearly colliding into the next bend in the corridor.

Growling out of frustration, he presses against it, his hand falling through and—

Oh?

He types out a quick message to the others, pocketing his screen and pushing his way through the permeable wall. He almost falls out on the other side, only to find himself in front of Jisung and Hyunjin.

“Felix?” Two identical exclamations of surprise greet him and he waves back sheepishly.

“You fell out of the wall,” Jisung reminds him, as if he could forget. The cold feeling of the wall’s material still lingers on his skin, leaving a sense of dampness over it, even if he knows that it wasn’t wet.

“I know,” he says. “The walls are a distraction—I don’t think they’re actually real. We should be able to get to the center of it all if we can just push through them. I sent a message through the screens, did you guys get it?”

Hyunjin shakes his head slowly, pulling out the screen and holding up the blank page. “I don’t think the messages are coming through very well. The last one we got was from Minho hyung.”

Huh. “Mine too.”

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “Do you think—”

Felix nods. “Yeah.”

Jisung frowns at them. “What do you mean?”

“The only reason we even got Minho hyung’s message is because he’s a Sentinel,” Felix explains. “He likely manipulated the simulation without even realizing it. That means his Sentinel strength is higher now, so he must be closer to the ‘portal.’ We need to figure out where he is; the rest of our bodies are probably there too.”

Jisung grimaces. “You make it sound so gross—bodies. Ew, we’re still alive, aren’t we?”

He barely finishes his last word before the hallway trembles, walls closing in. Felix shares a terrified look with Hyunjin. “We need to get out of here!”

Jisung nods. “Felix, do you think the walls are safe enough?”

Felix shrugs helplessly. “I made it through one of them and I’m fine?”

Hyunjin presses his lips together, sharply tilting his head to survey the walls that are slowly pressing closer before straightening up again. “There’s only one way to find out.”

* * *

  
  


Seungmin isn’t entirely sure where he is. The last message he remembers from the entire group was that he was supposed to take the tunnel to his left and meet up with Felix, who would have taken the tunnel on his right to get there. But he’s sure he’s been walking around for far too long and that he must have missed Felix.

The only other message had been from Minho, telling them that 3racha had successfully taken the cameras offline—only for eight minutes. 

Seungmin thinks it’s been far longer than eight minutes that he’s been walking through these stupid tunnels. 

He sticks to the center of the path regardless, avoiding the walls as best as he can. He had accidentally bumped into one a couple of minutes ago, and it had felt oddly soft, almost squishy. It makes sense that the material wouldn’t be as rigid, so it could maintain it’s curvy structure, but he is still a bit suspicious of the texture. It shouldn’t have been as soft as it was.

Not one to get sidetracked easily, he continues down the hallway, his steps too quiet for the beating of his heart. 

There’s no way JYPCorp hasn’t caught them yet. It  _ has  _ to have been more than eight minutes by now. He pulls out his screen to check, only for it to slip from his cold, clammy fingers, falling straight through the floor.

Through the floor?

They had all known that the warehouse extended underground, and that they weren’t even starting on the ground level when they had broken in, but he doesn’t even hear the sound of the screen landing on anything—or shattering from the depth of the fall. 

He reaches down cautiously, poking the floor, trying to feel around for the screen in case it was trapped under the floor somehow.

His hand falls right through. Startled, he tries to pull it back, only to fall forward in his haste. 

Just like the screen before him, Seungmin plunges through the floor.

Only to land with a soft thud on Chan and Jeongin.

“Seungmin hyung?”

“Chan hyung? Jeongin?”

What the heck?

“You fell out of the ceiling?” Chan tries to sound sure, but it comes out sounding like a question anyway. “Weren’t we on the same floor? How did you go up another level?”

“How did you guys go down a level? I’ve just been following these corridors, I have no idea what happened.”

Jeongin looks back up at the ceiling. “How  _ did  _ you fall through it?”

The question of the century, really. Seungmin would also like to know the answer to that. He settles for shrugging and shaking his head. “No idea. I dropped my screen and it fell through, I guess, but when I tried to find it, I fell through instead. Did you guys even see my screen?”

Chan and Jeongin share a look before shaking their heads. “No. Seungmin, are you sure your screen even fell through?”

Honestly, now he’s not. He could have sworn he dropped it, but after the trickery with the floor, he really doesn’t know what to say. “Doesn’t matter. Have you guys been able to contact anyone else?”

Chan shakes his head. “Did you not meet up with Felix? You guys were going to meet up at the end of the hallway, right?”

That, admittedly,  _ had  _ been the plan. “The hallways don’t follow the map,” Jeongin is quick to infer. “You couldn’t have met up with Felix hyung even if you followed the corridor.”

Seungmin nods. “Right.”

The answer clearly doesn’t satisfy Chan, who presses his lips together, wringing his hands. Seungmin gets it—none of them can compete with the way Chan cares about Felix. 

(Except maybe Minho, and even then, they both care about the younger of three in very different ways. But then again, Minho knows all about that. Even if Chan hasn’t quite realized it yet.)

“We should keep moving,” their eldest finally says. “Hopefully, we’ll run into the others somehow.”

Hopefully, indeed.

* * *

  
  


Minho slams the brakes hard, the momentum jolting him forward and off the hovercycle. He’s prepared to fall forward, hands splayed out in front of him to break his fall even if he remembers exactly how painful falling like that is. 

Instead, he falls right through the walls of the JYPCorp warehouse, landing in the center of the main storage facility.

Huh. Bingo.

Splitting up with Changbin had been far from ideal, and mostly unplanned, but he’s confident that Changbin will find his way back. And if he doesn’t, well, Minho can always draw him back.

He doesn’t know where this sudden confidence in his Sentinel abilities is coming from, but he does know that not using them isn’t going to get them out of here. He scans the perimeter, closing his eyes to see if he can expand his vision like he had that day when training with Felix. They never went back to vision again after that, not with Felix claiming he had mastered it—Minho and his aversion to all things Sentinel hadn’t pushed back against that either. 

He certainly regrets it now, as he struggles to focus long enough to figure out how he had unlocked his vision to begin with. 

Having his Guide here would certainly make a difference, but you know, that’s obviously not a possibility, considering he has  _ no idea where Changbin even is _ .

He exhales slowly, then freezes when he feels something cold press against the base of his neck.

The exact same place Hyunjin had injected him with a booster dose of the suppressant before releasing the most concentrated sonar blast Seungmin and Jeongin could have come up with.

“Well, well, well,” a discombobulated voice begins, each word lifting up as it glitches. “If it isn’t Lee Minho.”

“I don’t know who you are,” Minho spits out. And it’s the truth. Despite all his connections with ARMY, he only worked most directly with V and JK—and this voice is neither of them. 

“Oh, you wouldn’t,” the voice grates, in what probably should have been a smooth intone, but instead came out sounding harsh and broken up. “But I know you.”

Yes, well, his assailant has certainly already established that, hasn’t he?

But just as Minho is about to speak he blinks, and the warehouse is suddenly filled with lines of people. 

Huh?

A ring of tables outlines the inside of the warehouse, a sentient standing behind each of the tables. A pile of empty needles grows by the side of each table, the glass shattered all across the floor. 

The lights above them slicker once, catching on the chartreuse liquid in the needles. The sentients inject each person with the liquid, tossing the needle aside once they finish.

The person disappears. 

Is this the simulation breaking down?

The voice cackles by his ear and Minho cringes. He still doesn’t have enough control over his auditory senses to regulate how loud it feels, but for some reason, his senses feel dulled.

He figures out why when he feels liquid drip onto his neck. 

The voice curses as Minho jerks away, the needle breaking skin but the suppressant dripping onto the floor. It bubbles—oddly reminiscent of the way Minho’s own ability to adapt the simulation does, but it’s silver, unlike Minho’s own burgundy. 

The floor disintegrates, and with it, the mysterious figure that had attempted to hold him captive leaps forward. They’re masked, a glitching screen obscuring their face from view and a hood covering their hair. A long black jacket not unlike Minho’s own, and nothing noteworthy about the rest of their appearance. 

“Who are you?”

The voice cackles once more at his demand, clearly amused. “It matters not who I am, but what I stand for.”

The androids have regained their consciousness.

_ Awaken. _

* * *

  
  


Changbin figures out that the walls are permeable far too quickly for his own comfort. After getting lost in the maze of corridors and separated from Minho in the process, he leans against one of the walls, only to fall through it, backwards and through the floor of the next hallway too. 

He lies flat on his back for a second, taking it in. The hallways are clearly a distraction meant to keep them from finding the center of this fabricated maze. He sticks hand through the one closest to him, watching the wall swallow it before stepping through. 

He looks around before stepping through the next wall too.

Sweet.

He’s in the center in no time, but he doesn’t see anything that could lead to their real bodies in any way. He only remembers something about having to sever the connection between the simulation and reality, but he’s pretty sure Minho is the only one that has power to do that.

Which is, inherently and undeniably, kind of hot, but now is  _ so  _ not the time for that. 

He’s just about ready to turn back around and try to find the others himself when he spies movement at the other end of the warehouse. He grabs a lead pipe from the floor just in case and makes his way over warily, only for Hyunjin and Jisung to fall out of the wall.

“Where’s Felix?” Jisung cries out.

Changbin frowns. “Felix? Wasn’t Seungmin supposed to be with you?”

Hyunjin nods impatiently. “He was, but the hallways—you know what I mean—and Felix ended up with us, but he didn’t come out of this side.”

What?

“Where’s Minho hyung?” Jisung retorts. Changbin shakes his head.

“We couldn’t meet up again after I got into the hallway,” he admits. “He was only able to get that last message out after I alerted him. I have no idea where he is.”

Jisung deflates at that. “And we don’t even know where Chan hyung, Seungminnie, and Jeonginnie are.”

They don’t. 

Hyunjin quickly checks out their surroundings. “This is the warehouse?”

Changbin shrugs. “We all ended up here. Must mean something even if it isn’t. Why?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “I could be wrong, but it doesn’t seem right. We keep going to the right every time, we shouldn’t have ended up at the center at all.”

“The hallways don’t even align,” Jisung points out. “For all we know, we could have been going to the left.”

“No, but the hallways don’t move,” Changbin agrees. “He has a point.”

A crash from the end Changbin had fallen out of draws their attention. Chan, Seungmin, and Jeongin are all in a heap at that end, sorting out their tangled mess of limbs. 

Changbin feels a sinking feeling in his stomach. Minho might be able to manage as a Sentinel, and in fact, it makes sense that he didn’t run into the rest of them.

Felix? He should have come out with Jisung and Hyunjin the way that they did.

Chan clearly comes to the same conclusion after Hyunjin and Jisung finish explaining the situation. “He should have come out with you two.”

“What do we do now?” Seungmin is quick to guide them back to their plan of action. “Maybe Felix ended up with Minho hyung?”

Hyunjin shakes his head—that makes no sense. “Minho hyung managed to not run into any of us—he’s probably figured out a way around this mess.”

Changbin nods. He didn’t run into anyone either, but he did spend significantly less time in the maze. There was no way for him to run into anyone in the first place. It took Jisung and Hyunjin quite a while to reach the center even after he did. 

“What about Felix then?” Chan’s voice is tense, and he’s speaking faster than they have ever heard him. He paces slightly, almost grinding his teeth as he tries to think of a way to explain what happened.

Jeongin raises a hand tentatively to get their attention. “Is Felix hyung Minho hyung’s Guide? Wouldn’t it make sense for them to end up near each other?”

Chan, Changbin, and Hyunjin are quick to refute his claim. “He’s not,” Chan says.

Hyunjin nods. “Yeah, his Guide is here.”

“ _ I’m  _ his Guide.” 

* * *

Felix never expected the scene from his tell to come to life.

Well, not until he was standing in the center of the warehouse, watching the people file through the lines and hearing the glass syringes shattering. 

Oh, and he can’t forget  _ Minho fighting with a godforsaken sentient android  _ on the other side of the warehouse. 

Felix can admit that he stops a bit to admire how well Minho fights, the way he fights with a different kind of grace than the sentients or the Bureau are taught. Typical Minho, finding some way to outdo them all.

He’s so transfixed on Minho that he almost misses the way the floor trembles beneath his feet—not unlike the way it had in his dream. 

_ Oh no. _

Felix drops to the floor immediately, remembering the words from his dream, just as Minho vaults off the fence at the top, throwing his left leg across and to the side, sending his momentum in the same direction. He swings down, hands catching on the lattice structure of the scaffolding. He jumps down from there, and that’s when Felix realizes that his eyes are  _ closed. _

It does make sense that Minho would close them while jumping, particularly from such a height with such a strong sense of acrophobia, but he continues to fight blind, even when the androids come at him.

Somehow, through all this chaos, Minho has managed to track Felix too. Not that the younger is surprised, really, just confused. The ground is still shaking, but the warehouse isn’t falling apart like it’s supposed to be. Or, rather, how he remembers it to be.

Maybe that’s what makes it a tell?

Minho throws one of the tables forward, blocking the androids momentarily. The sentient continues to inject people with the serum, despite lacking the supplies.

Felix blinks.

The warehouse is empty, with the exception of the Minho, Felix, and the android.

“Minho hyung—”

“I know!” Minho grits out, eyes still closed as he pushes the android back. Felix stays where he is—he isn’t in the way and there really isn’t anywhere else to go either. He watches Minho’s moves carefully, monitoring for any advice he can give him, but Minho is near flawless. Felix suspects the only way he could be any better would be if his Guide was here to help keep him from zoning out.

The androids slam into each other, but one of them manages to get one last cackle in before the screens turn from white noise colorful static to shattered black. Minho finally opens his eyes, squinting at them.

“Are you okay ‘Lix?”

Felix nods quickly. “Yeah, I’m fine, hyung! Are you okay?”

Minho nods, leaning over with his hands pressed against his knees as he catches his breath. He holds a hand up in a lazy thumb’s up. Felix grins back, equally breathlessly, before screaming.

“Minho hyung, watch out!”

And then he’s falling through a familiar softness.

* * *

  
  


He stands in a kitchen, by a microwave in front of a tall glass window. Sunlight streams into the loft apartment freely, warming his bare legs and arms. He crosses his arms, shuffling his feet to wake himself up.

Minho usually doesn’t stay up so late—and he really doesn’t sleep in so late either. It feels weird, but it’s not bad. 

Early mornings are cool sunrise runs by the river bridge and iced Americanos and warm showers and hugs when he gets back. Late mornings are tangled sheets and cuddling with his roommate, cooking under the afternoon sunlight, and laughing over forkfuls of food.

He can’t really say he likes one over the other.

“Come back,” a whiny voice calls out, an arm emerging from the lump of sheets on the bed in the corner. When they had first moved into the apartment, they had only bought one bed, unsure of where to put the second one. Four months later, they’d both grown too attached to the other’s presence in bed when they woke up or went to sleep to bring up a second mattress.

Not to mention they still didn’t know where they would put it—this was likely more due to the fact that they hadn’t thought about it than not having space. 

Minho snorts, reaching up to grab a plate from the cupboards above the stove. “It’s almost noon though.”

The sheets shuffle around, but Minho knows he’s far from given up. “You’re warm though.” The whining continues. “Minho hyuuuung.”

Minho outright giggles at this. “You’ll be fine, you big baby. You’re already awake, do you want to help me with breakfast—or, lunch, I guess?”

“What, now I’m suddenly competent enough to be in the kitchen?”

Minho freezes, setting the plate down on the counter. “Nope, on second thought, I changed my mind. Stay in bed and don’t even bother coming near the kitchen with a ten foot pole.”

He turns back around to check on the pancakes, flipping the ones that are done over. When he speaks again, it sounds much closer than the bed. “It’s not like the bed’s even ten feet away from where the kitchen starts.” A chin rests on his shoulder—MInho hides a smile despite his shudder at how warm he is. “It might be more than ten feet away from you, though. Do you want to measure and check?”

He outrights grins at this, laughing a little and leaning into his roommate’s embrace. “You’re such a nerd, oh my god, the whole point was to keep you away from the kitchen because you can’t cook for—”

“What about the pancakes I made?” Minho closes his eyes, shaking his head deliberately slowly, knowing that his hair will tickle him. 

“Felix came over to help you with those.”

An exaggeratedly offended gasp. “You were supposed to be sleeping!”

Minho snorts, turning around, eyes widening when he realizes just how close they are. “I had just gotten back from a run?”

“I told you to go back to sleep, it’s not my fault you woke up,” Changbin defends himself, though he’s grinning just as easily. His defense fades out, a softer smile lighting up his face. “Hi.”

Minho grins back. “ _ Hi. _ ”

Changbin turns him back around, still pressed against his back. “The pancakes are going to burn.”

Minho curses under his breath, flipping the pancakes over one last time before stacking them up in the two plates he had gotten out earlier. “If they do, that’s on you.”

Changbin gapes. “Huh? What did I do?”

Minho sighs deeply, dragging the boy on his back to the sink to wash a handful of raspberries. “You’re just so distracting, Seo Changbin.”

He can practically see him raising his eyebrows when he speaks. “Oh? Is this a confession, Lee Minho?”   
  


Minho clears his throat, smirking when Changbin deflates. “Lee Minho  _ hyung _ ?”

“It’s cute that you think that,” Minho agrees. “You’re just obnoxiously loud, that would be distracting to anyone, not just me, don’t worry.”

He hears Changbin darkly mutter under his breath and laughs softly. “If you don’t eat before this gets cold, I won’t ever cook for you again.”

That’s a blatant lie—Changbin is far from capable of cooking for himself and if it weren’t for takeout, he would probably starve. Minho and his bleeding heart could never let that happen, despite how he might jokingly threaten the younger. He thinks Changbin might even call him out for it, as honest as he is, but the younger says nothing about that, asking if he wants coffee instead after finishing his pancakes.

“Sure, if you’re making it,” Minho agrees easily, setting his fork down. “Don’t think this gets you out of doing the dishes though.”

Changbin rolls his eyes not unkindly. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Minho rinses his plate and fork, setting them both in the sink for Changbin to scrub later before hopping up onto the counter next to the microwave, back against the casement windows that line that wall. It’s warm against his back and he sighs contentedly. Changbin closes the microwave door and settles between his legs, fingers tapping out the rhythm to his new song on his thigh.

“That one sounds nice, is it a new 3racha track or a SpearB original?” Changbin flips his hands over, palms facing upwards. Minho places his hands over them without thinking too much about it. Changbin intertwines their fingers, pressing their palms together. 

“SpearB original, probably,” he murmurs, eyes focused on their hands. “I’m still looking for a vocal for it.”

Minho raises an eyebrow. “Jisungie isn’t singing for you?”

Changbin shakes his head. “His voice doesn’t fit the track that well, it’s a different kind of soft and powerful. Plus he’s busy with the duet he’s doing with Seungmin anyway.”

He knows exactly what the younger wants out of this conversation, but Minho isn’t ready for that. Not yet, and maybe not ever. It’s only been a couple of weeks since the accident, and he’s feeling fine—a lot of credit for that probably goes to Changbin—but he isn’t ready to put himself back in that mindset again. 

Okay, so maybe he owes Changbin a lot more than just a lot of the credit—it’s been Changbin’s eternally positive mindset that’s kept him going these past few weeks after all, and even the months leading up to the accident. 

But there’s still a part of him that thinks that Changbin thinks too highly of him and that sooner or later, the younger will realize that he isn’t anything special to look up to.

“I’m sure Chan hyung wouldn’t mind?” He remembers the elder saying something about a new rap track, but knowing Chan, he’s probably already done with producing it too. “And if not, Jeonginnie has been practicing his singing too.”

Changbin finally looks up, expression unreadable. “Innie’s featuring on Chan hyung’s track, remember?”

Minho most definitely does not, but he’ll take his word for it. He doesn’t bring that up either, because he knows Changbin will worry if he does. He’s fine, really. The migraines have reduced and having Changbin around more often—as selfish and odd as it sounds—has helped immensely.

He has no idea how to justify that without coming to an absolutely insane conclusion that has no basis being as romanticized as it is, but—

Well, love conquers all and all that, right?

He doesn’t really think it’s that, but he has to admit that there is a connection between Changbin and his better days. One that can’t be explained by the younger’s good nature and healthy mindset.

Fingers tapping against his bare waist, hands having slipped under his t-shirt draw his attention. He shivers slightly, shaking his head and pushing his hair from his eyes. It’s grown out these past few months, but he thinks the style has grown on him. “What?”

Changbin just grins, fingers trailing upwards. Minho realizes what’s happening before it’s too late, pressing the younger’s hands down before it tickles him. “Please, hyung?”

Minho shrugs airily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Another blatant lie. He knows exactly what Changbin wants. “Will you please sing on my track?”

Minho sighs, letting go of Changbin’s hands to drape his arms over the younger’s shoulders and draw him closer. “What, you want me to feature on your track?”

Changbin shakes his head, unkempt hair fluffy under the afternoon sunshine. “No? It’s more of a vocal track, so technically, I would be featuring on it and you would be credited for the main vocals.”

Minho swallows thickly. When he speaks, his voice is soft, withdrawn. “You could have anyone sing on your track, Binnie. You could even sing yourself—don’t look at me like that; you started out as a singer and you’re an even better vocalist now—why do you want  _ me _ ?”

Changbin’s hands settle at his waist, almost as if he’s holding Minho together with how gently he holds him. When he looks at Minho, it’s with something darker, something more intimate. Minho wants to pretend they haven’t been skirting around this, but he’s already lied enough today. “You know why.”

Before Minho can speak, the timer goes off and the microwave startles them both. Changbin squeezes his waist, thumbs pressing against his abs, before he goes to take care of the coffee machine. Minho slides off the counter, reaching for the microwave to turn it off.

The second he touches the microwave, however, burgundy bubbles up around the sides, eating away at the panel of buttons. Minho watches, horrified yet transfixed. “Changbinnie…”

He jerks his hand away, but it’s too late. He accidentally brushes it against the counter, and it too, begins to bubble up. The color of wine stains each of the bubbles that quietly dissolve everything he touches. He steps back, crashing into Changbin who’s frozen behind him. 

“What—hyung, what happened?” Minho curses, watching the microwave capitulate to the deceptively powerful bubbles. 

He turns around to explain that he really has no idea, only to be overcome by a strong sense of vertigo. Minho squeezes his eyes shut, opening them only when the swaying motion subsides. 

He finds himself standing face to face with Changbin by an abandoned car with a wheel missing, next to an empty parking garage. The smell of smoke is overwhelming, likely from the car, but he can almost sense that the fire isn’t near them. 

“Minho hyung?” 

A crash has them both spinning around, ducking behind the smoking car to avoid being seen. 

“What the heck,” Changbin breathes, watching a squadron of officers in uniform continue to barrel through the freeway, knocking cars aside as they wish.

“They’re here for us,” Minho whispers, but no, that doesn’t sound right. “They’re here for me.”

“Minho hyung, you have to wake up!” 

Huh? Changbin’s voice sounds further off, disorientingly so, but he can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from. He staggers to his feet unevenly, a sharp pang of pain running through his leg, and oh, that’s not good—

Changbin shoots up to his feet as well, hands landing on Minho’s shoulders. The elder’s arms instinctively rest on his waist, waiting for the younger to speak.

“Hyung, you’re zoning out, you need to focus,” Changbin murmurs, voice low but still the loudest thing in Minho’s mind. “Come back,  _ Minho _ .”

He should be slapping Changbin for that, shouldn’t he? A playful reminder that he’s older, but it sounds right, and the ringing in his ears subsides whenever Changbin speaks anyway, so he lets it go.

“Changbinnie?”

“We’re almost out of there, hyung. You need to come back to us—focus, okay?”

Focus on what? Minho’s legs give out and he crumples. He would’ve fallen altogether if it weren’t for Changbin’s quick reflexes. He closes his eyes. Minho is so tired, he just wants to rest a little, okay?

“Lee Minho!” Changbin’s voice jolts him awake once more and he opens his eyes drowsily, aware of his head resting in Changbin’s lap.

“Binnie, ‘m tired,” he mumbles, words slurred together. “And my head hurts.”

Changbin eyebrows are scrunched up and Minho thinks he looks too worried like that. He lifts a weary hand up to poke at them, pressing at the crease between his eyebrows until Changbin, surprised, straightens them out, looking down at Minho with wide eyes. Minho giggles. “There.”

And then it clicks. 

“They’re almost to the border of the facility,” Minho recites, hand pressed against Changbin’s chest with his eyes closed.

“Can you hear what they’re saying?”

Minho tilts his head slightly, listening carefully. “—a kilometer south of the west border—a prison break with no casualties yet—a chemical explosion in the east wing—”

“Hyung, that’s enough, come back.”

‘“—further north is a sentient brigade—searching for two survivors separated from their group—”

“Minho hyung, come back!”

Minho inhales sharply. “Where’s the exit 4419?”   
  


Changbin curses darkly. “The closest to us. They’re looking for us.” Minho blinks slowly, sitting up even slower. Changbin is already standing, scanning their surroundings. The officials they had seen before seem to have disappeared but neither of them are foolish enough to drop their guard. “We need a car.” Minho stares blankly at the smoking abomination in front of them before looking back at the garage.

“I can drive,” he offers, swaying as he stands. Changbin lets him lean against him, supporting him with an arm around his waist as he half drags him to the nearest functioning car.

Changbin glares at him, shoving him in the passenger seat before reclining the seat as far back as it goes. “You’re insane if you think you’ll be driving anywhere any time soon. You barely made it out of the last car when it blew up, don’t think you’ll ever be driving again at this rate.”

“Blew up?” Minho slurs, shifting when the seatbelt presses into his neck. “I don’t remember that.”

The look Changbin gives him means that the younger probably does, but he’s focused on driving in the next instant anyway, so Minho doesn’t get to hear any more on that matter. “You should, considering they were after you, Mr. Strongest Sentinel the World and The Bureau Chasing You Has Ever Seen.”

Minho scoffs tiredly, closing his eyes. “I could have sworn the Bureau didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know about Lee Know, the biggest threat to their plot to control the districts and further the convergence of androids and sentients.”   
  


He thinks Changbin says more, but he’s too far under to hear any of that. All he knows is the comfort the darkness brings.

* * *

  
  


Chan opens his eyes to the artificial nodes attached to his forehead and wires hooked up to nodes attached to his pulse points. He rips them off, confident that they managed to break through the simulation. Next to him, he can see Hyunjin and Felix doing the same thing. He exhales, glad to see that Felix made it out okay too, even if he had gotten lost somewhere along the way.

On his other side, Jisung, Seungmin, and Jeongin have all pulled their connections to the simulation off.

That doesn’t sound right.

He counts again: Hyunjin, one. Felix, two. Chan, three. Jisung, four. Seungmin, five. Jeongin, six.

But they’re eight—so where are Minho and Changbin?

“What did Minho hyung do?” Felix’s low voice is an even deeper murmur as he glares at the floor. He curses under his breath, too quiet for Chan to properly catch. Felix doesn’t look up, still caught up in glaring at the floor.

“They separated us,” Hyunjin deduces. “Remember? They wanted to test how deep the Sentinel-Guide bond was?”

Silence. Chan can feel it all coming back to him, the sentients capturing them, being forced into the simulation—

—the screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmmm, so we're finally out of the simulation, thoughts on everything that went down?


	10. [fulminate]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ｎｏｗ ｐｌａｙｉｎｇ ： ｄｉｓｔｒｉｃｔ ９ ｂｙ ｓｔｒａｙ ｋｉｄｓ
> 
> “we’re at the district where a small light becomes huge.”
> 
> better watch out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, you're in for a ride with this one... sorry about the wait, school decided to screw me over again, but have no fear, there's officially a plan for the rest of this story !! ( yes you heard that right, i've been writing all of this without a plan, sue me, i'm usually not a planner when it comes to writing) hope you guys enjoy the action !
> 
> ( this is not edited as of posting bc i'm just v excited to get it out there but i might come back and *e d i t* if i don't get caught up in *other* work )
> 
> note : there is some violence in this, much more than anything else so far, so please proceed with caution if that makes you uncomfortable

Changbin isn't entirely sure where they are. The unfamiliar scenery makes him wonder if whoever was in control switched the scenery on their simulation, or if this is the world outside of it. 

Somehow, neither of those theories feel right. 

Can memories bleed into simulations?

He blink, looking around the unfamiliar studio, the large windows, the dwindling evening sunlight.

Minho.

"Minho hyung?

Minho smiles so brightly when he sees Changing that the younger thinks he would never look away. It almost hurts, how happy Minho looks when all Changbin can see is Minho, tired from trying to reign in his Sentinel abilities. "Changbinnie! I thought you'd be late—there's leftovers on the counter. I can heat them up while you shower?"

Changbin blinks, brows furrowed as he slowly nods. He locates the bathroom easily enough in the small apartment, taking note of the single double sized mattress behind a screen partition as he grabs a dark colored towel, figuring the mint colored one was Minho's. 

_—a mint colored hovercycle, a racer clad in skin tight black, a holographic material that seems like it was painted onto a sculpted body—_

_—the screams of students at the sight of the rider leaping off and screaming at the exhilarating speeds of somersaulting midair and landing on the hovercycle once more—_

_—a soft mint colored sweater and smooth skin, the press of a needle and the flow of ink—_

_—we are but dust and shadows—_

Changbin blinks, shaking his head. Is this the world outside of the simulation? How does he figure it out? Minho's words about tells spring to mind, but he can't find any. 

The neon of the simulation fades out, and he’s left in that apartment, surrounded by soft, neutral colors and a warm shower. 

It feels like so long ago that they had all met up in Felix’s flat after escaping from the Bureau the first time around. 

He finds Minho asleep at the breakfast nook, a plate of heated food by his side. And as tempting as the food is, Changbin can’t help but smile at Minho. His hair looks fluffy, like he just washed it, and when Changbin runs his fingers through it, it feels just as soft too. 

He leans down to whisper in the elder’s ear. “Hyung.” Minho stirs slightly, squinting at Changbin in the dim kitchen light.

“Mmm, what?”

Changbin laughs quietly, nudging the elder. “You fell asleep.”

Minho shakes his head, blinking. “I did?”

Changbin nods again, pointing at the food. “Thank you, but hyung, if you were so tired, then you should’ve just gone to bed.”

“I didn’t feel tired though,” Minho mumbles. “Your fault. I saw you and got tired.” He yawns lazily, nose scrunching up like a cat. “You should eat. I’ll wait for you.”

Changbin looks down at him fondly. “You should really get some rest if you’re tired.”

Minho leans against Changbin’s shoulder heavily, leaning precariously between the stools to do so. “M’not tired. Eat.”

Changbin laughs lightly again, nodding. He hurries through his dinner, dragging a half asleep Minho to bed as soon as he’s finished. He thinks that the mattress behind the folding screen will have to do, considering that he doesn’t see any other place to sleep. That means that Changbin sleeps on the couch? Or do they normally alternate?

He doesn’t have to worry about that, because Minho pulls him into bed before he can get a step away. “Stop moving,” Minho mumbles sleepily, latching onto him like a warm octopus. Changbin surrenders to his hold, basking in the warmth.

“Good night, Minho hyung,” Changbin murmurs when he finally manages to turn around in the elder’s hold.

In fact, he’s so comfortable that he almost forgets what he’s here for.

Almost.

Right. He needs to wake Minho up. 

“Minho hyung,” he whispers, nudging Minho sharply. “Hyung, you need to get up, your drifting—no, what did Felix call it?—you’re zoning out, you need to wake up.”

Minho mumbles something unintelligibly, blinking sleep away. His eyelashes look longer from this angle and Changbin almost forgets what he was going to say from how distracting they are. 

“Hyung, we’re still in the simulation,” Changbin urges, sitting up. Minho outright whines at the loss of contact, squinting as he tries to find the younger again. “Minho hyung, you need to focus.”

Minho blinks twice, finally sitting up. “Focus,” he repeats unsurely. “But we’re fine here, why can’t we go back to sleep?”

“Because we’re not actually here.” Changbin pushes back the bedsheets, almost knocking the dividing screen at the foot of the bed over in his haste to get up. He tugs the sheets off Minho too, tossing them aside as he tries to find his shoes. “This doesn’t exist.”

“What?”

Changbin grabs a jacket and pulls it on. It’s too big for him, likely one of Minho’s. “This is the eighth dimension. Where Sentinels get stuck when they zone out and get lost in their power.”

“Changbinnie, if this is a joke, it’s not funny,” Minho says, but his voice is unsteady and falls flat, almost like he doesn’t believe what he’s saying either. He doesn’t make a move to reach for the sheets again either, staring at the palm tree decal on the screen. “What do you mean, my power?”

“Minho hyung, you’re a Sentinel,” Changbin repeats, finally stopping. “You are a Sentinel and that makes you the bridge between dimensions. But right now, we are in a simulation and we can’t get out without you—you already got the others out, but you need to focus and snap out of it!”

The elder tilts his head, hair falling over his eyes and obscuring his vision. Changbin can’t tell what he’s thinking or read his face from this angle. “I remember… there was—Felix! Is ‘Lix okay?”

Changbin nods, breathing a sigh of relief. “Yeah, you got him out just in time, but the android got to you first. Your mind probably pushed you here to protect you.”

Minho blinks. “That makes sense, a purged consciousness in a simulation would equal brain death.”

Changbin stares at him. “You mean you’d be dead?”

“Comatose, most likely,” Minho agrees. “I don’t know how to get out of this though.”

That is certainly not ideal. 

Changbin looks around the room, trying to find a tell. This might not be a simulation, but maybe there’s something, some kind of sign that’ll help them get out of here. Wherever here is—he doesn’t quite know the answer to that question.

“You won’t find a tell,” Minho sighs, standing up, the sheets falling off his side of the bed where they had previously been draped over his legs. “This isn’t a part of the simulation.” 

In the corner of the apartment, the microwave bubbles away, slowly disintegrating. Changbin jumps, whirling around to see it, but Minho doesn’t even blink. The refrigerator is the next to go, burgundy bubbles rising all around it, and the refrigerator melting under the acidic substance. 

“It’s time to go,” Minho murmurs softly. “But I can’t leave.”

The bubbling increases, the entire kitchen falling prey to the wine colored bubbling. Changbin spins back around to look at Minho. “What do you mean, you can’t leave?”

The elder ignores his question, finally turning to look at the wreckage around them. The bed has started bubbling too, so Changbin reaches a hand out to Minho, grip firm around his wrist as he tugs the elder away from it, just in case.

Minho laughs quietly, mirthlessly. “Nothing can happen to me here,” he scoffs, surveying the damage. “So much for this all being a maladaptive daydream.” 

Maladaptive daydream?

“You’ve been here before.” It’s not a question, it’s a mere observation. Still, Minho nods.

“Changbinnie… This is all in my head,” he muses softly, bitterly. “Of course, I’ve been here before. Of course, I have. My mind came up with it, do you really think I could ever escape?”

That’s what zoning out means then. Changbin gets it now. Minho has tapped too far into his abilities to get out of his mind—the origin of the same abilities that are trapping him here. And as his Guide, it’s Changbin’s role to pull him out of his mind and bring him back to reality.

“You can,” Changbin says, voice stronger than he really feels about this. “I’m your Guide, remember? We have to work together; you can do this.”

He might not know how, but after watching the bathroom behind him disintegrate—and jumping forward, startled, getting a laugh out of Minho—he knows that it has to be possible. He got Minho to snap out of the daydream, not it’s more of a lucid dream, and Minho is in control.

“What if you change the scenery?” Minho raises an eyebrow.

“Change the scenery?”

Changbin nods, his idea clicking into place. “Right. It’s not a daydream anymore, and since you’re still dreaming and conscious, you should be able to change the dream. Pick somewhere safe.”

He thinks Minho mutters that this was exactly what his mind entrusted to the prison they’re currently in, but that makes no sense. Home is safe, yes, but what does Changbin have to do with any of that? 

Or is it because he’s his Guide? He thinks Felix would have made more sense, close as they are.

But, then again, Minho treasures Felix and would protect him from the world. He knows Chan and Minho fought over the Chanlix thing, and he knows that Minho took Felix’s side and that’s why Chan was upset for a couple of weeks.

Wasn’t that in the simulation, though?

He shakes his head to clear his mind, surprised when he finds that the scenery has shifted entirely.

And yet, it’s still familiar.

The plastic aqua colored palm trees stuck on the large smudged mirror of the back wall, the small bubble shaped fridge with a panel in the front revealing bottles of bubbling neon blue liquid, a drink Changbin knows glows in the dark. The pink toned lighting that flickers every so often. Glass doors that showcase the corner shop convenience store in all of its miserable vaporwave glory, a hidden tattoo bench with designs tacked up with plastic dolphin pushpins.

Minho won’t meet his eyes, but Changbin knows without looking that AVA is noticeably absent too.

“Why?”

Minho finally looks at him, running a hand through his hair. “You know why.” It sounds desperate, like he knows that Changbin doesn’t, but wants him to understand. “You have to know why.”

He doesn’t, but the desperation in Minho’s voice makes him really wish he did. Just to ease the distress it is apparently causing.

They’re in his little convenience store from the simulation.

Now, logically, Changbin understands that Chan is the owner of the store and he is but a mere employee, meaning this could just be because Minho feels safe around Chan, and it could easily have nothing to do with him.

At the same time, though, Minho only ever visited the store to talk to Changbin, bother Changbin on his shift, convince Changbin to do his tattoos, and to fall asleep on that beanbag behind the counter, curled up against Changbin like an oversized cat.

He thinks it’s safe to say this has something to do with him.

And, honestly, it’s not like he’s completely ignorant of his own feelings either. He’s had his own moments of hiding from Jisung back when he and Minho had their… thing. 

(Apparently, he’s been wrong about that all along and all three of them have been nursing broken hearts from poor timing.)

Not that Changbin really thinks his timing is that poor these days, he’s just had a lot to think about.

The lights flicker, shifting into a turquoise-y mint color that he remembers from the day he did the matching coordinates on his and Minho’s wrists. Of course, there were plenty of times that the lights were that color, but he’s going for significance here, for something that connects him and Minho to their minds.

“I want to say I do,” Changbin admits slowly. “But that wouldn’t be fair to you. Especially if what I’m thinking of is completely different from what it actually is.”

Minho turns to him, hair mussed from him pushing it back. His eyes darken, and he stalks forward with purpose. “It has to be the same.”

His gaze dips to Minho’s lips before fluttering back to his eyes, only to find Minho looking down at his own. Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? He can’t tell. 

So Changbin does the next best thing and cups Minho’s jaw in his hands, pulling him down and kissing him.

Minho responds immediately, arms wrapping around Changbin’s waist as he leans into it, tilting his head so that the angle doesn’t hurt either of them. Changbin pushes closer, parting his lips and letting Minho lead. The elder smiles slightly, and—

—and for a second, the world is quiet, and even the humming of the led lights that light the corners of the ceiling is silenced.

And then they’re thrown forward into darkness, separated from each other.

* * *

“We got separated, I remember,” Felix agrees, looking around the hexagonal shaped room. Blue led strips line each of the angles, the faint glow casting shadows on their faces. “They knew Minho hyung was a Sentinel and that he was connected to Changbin hyung, so that’s why they took both of them.”

He can feel Chan’s gaze on him and he’s still frustrated with their eldest, but he isn’t sure if he’s really mad at him anymore. 

He and Chan… He knows what Chan feels for him and he knows that Chan knows what he feels for him. It’s just not the right time for them to act on their feelings, what with the rebellion.

In another world, they’d be able to live together and fall in love with their early morning smiles and late night laughter.

But in this one? A world where they’ve been battling to break out of this system and get out of District 9? Their feelings for each other are their most dangerous weaknesses. 

Felix wants nothing more than to fall in bed together and wake up and kiss the sleep off his face, but that’s just not possible. 

So instead, he’s staying alive. 

“Where are they now, though?” Jisung asks, curling his knees to his chest as he sits on the platform they were lying down on previously. 

Jeongin chews on his lips worriedly. “Do you think they’re okay?”

Felix looks around, tapping Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Can you check the door? I don’t see any cameras here, but I could be wrong.”

Seungmin raises his head in surprise, hand resting on Jeongin’s shoulder protectively. “Wait, before you do that, let’s hold on and figure out our next steps.”

Chan shakes his head. “No, Felix is right. We should check to see if there’s anyone listening.”

Hyunjin slides the door open. “Hallway’s empty,” he says. “I think we should move now and figure things out as we go, in case people start to show up.”

Chan nods at this, holding an arm out to help Jisung up. “That’s probably for the best—none of us know our way around here though.”

“I think we’ll be able to figure it out if we keep walking?” Hyunjin offers, closing the door as he slips back inside. “We’re at the end of the hallway, so there’s only one way that we can go from here. And I think I saw a flight of stairs at the end. It’s also quiet, so maybe the guards are on break?”

Jisung scoffs. “The Bureau? Not putting a 100% of their effort into guarding the rebels?”

Felix shakes his head, looking away from the strip lights. “No, that’s a valid point. We’re just rebels, they would never go through so much effort to try and stop us. We’ve done a lot of damage to the facility, but it’s the Sentinels and Guides that they would try to focus their energy on.”

_Especially the Sentinels. Particularly Sentinels like Minho, who were powerful enough even without Guides and had awakened before most._

“We’re not splitting up this time.” It’s Hyunjin who speaks. “The simulation was different—I’m not willing to bet any of our lives on this.”

That’s fair, Felix thinks. He knows Hyunjin has more he isn’t saying, particularly about his experience treating both Minho and Changbin in the simulation, and his fears are entirely valid. 

Felix just isn’t sure if they will be able to manage things together too. District 9 is infamous for it’s security, and the fact that they’re in the highest security retention facility is worrying enough on its own. Once you add in the suspicious lack of security, it’s a recipe for disaster.

The hallway is still empty when they slip out of what Felix had previously assumed to be a containment cell, and there are no guards in sight even when they make it past the first flight of stairs. When they reach the landing for the second, Jisung stops.

“What’s your call, Chan hyung? Are we going to explore this floor or are we going down one more?”

Felix scans their surroundings while Chan thinks it over. He thinks they are underground now, what with their being absolutely no windows, barred or otherwise. A quick glimpse out of the small glass panel in the door gives him an idea of that facility’s shape, hollow in the center with the lowermost visible floor being at least another three floors down. Hallways with locked doors line every floor above it, building up to what must be the ceiling and above that, the roof.

“Let’s vote on it,” Chan says. “Felix?”

Felix shrugs, mildly surprised Chan is even asking him to go first. “I say we go down. If we can get to the bottom, then we have access to that entire floor.”

Chan nods, turning to Seungmin. “While that makes sense, I think there’s more room to escape if we get out of the stairwell. If any of the guards come after us in here, we’re trapped for sure.”

As logical as that seems, the entire facility is eerily quiet. Felix has his own doubts about whether Minho and Changbin are even in this facility, but he can’t get the screams out of his head. They _have_ to be in here. Trying to open those doors would only draw more attention to themselves, and that’s the last thing they want.

“Hyunjin?” Hyunjin shakes his head to clear his mind of whatever he was likely thinking about, turning to face the group once more.

“I’m with Felix. We’re better off getting to the bottom, and there’s more space to hide in case the guards do notice. Also, I think we’re more likely to find Minho hyung and Changbin hyung down there.” He doesn’t elaborate as to why he thinks so, but it is anyone’s guess at this point, so no one questions it.

Jeongin frowns at this though. “If we don’t know, then aren’t we better off checking out these hallways instead of going down and then realizing we’re in the wrong place? The doors might lock once we’re down there, then what?”

“They might lock once we get into the hallway too,” Jisung points out. “Then what? At least there are places to hide at the last floor. There’s no way the guards wouldn’t get us if we got stuck out there.”

Chan raises his eyebrows at him. “I’m guessing you’re voting for going all the way down too, then?”

Jisung nods, leaning back against the white metal banister. “You guessed correctly. And I agree that we’re more likely to find Minho hyung and Changbin hyung down there.”

Chan bites his lip, and Felix knows he’s the only one focusing on it. He looks away before he thinks the elder can notice, but judging the look Chan gives him, he wasn’t subtle enough. Fine by him, he’s never tried to hide his feelings. That’s been Chan, the entire time, always worried about how things will turn out if they, god forbid, acknowledge them. He snorts at the thought, shaking his head.

“I think there’s merit to going down too,” he admits finally. “The biggest selling point is if the doors lock—we’re definitely stuck out there and it’s not like there is a guarantee that the doors to the rooms open either. We would be entirely exposed.” He pauses, glancing at the door once more. “And I really do doubt they would keep such a high risk Sentinel out here in the same kind of room as us.”

Seungmin nods, resigned. “Then what are we waiting here for? The longer we stand here, the longer we are sitting ducks for the District to come after us. Let’s go.”

He sounds a little sour at his reasoning not being chosen, but Felix knows he is reasonable enough and that he will get over it soon. More than it not being his reasoning, Seungmin is likely worried about Minho and Changbin, and his frustration at not knowing where they are is probably coming through stronger. 

Not that Felix blames him in any way, he feels the same. He looks over at Hyunjin and Jisung, both of whom are tense and on edge and knows that they feel the same way too. On his other side, Chan is just as pensive as ever, likely just as worried about Minho and Changbin. And Jeongin, their poor youngest, looks spooked by everything. 

Chan nods once, and Seungmin leads the way, Jeongin holding his hand from behind. Jisung nods at Felix and Hyunjin falls into step with both of them. Chan brings up in the rear, watching their backs.

“Do you think they’re okay?” Jisung breaks the silence with a hushed question, his knuckles turning white from how tightly he’s holding his hands in fists. Felix reaches out immediately to unclench his fist, intertwining their fingers instead.

“I hope so,” he whispers back, looking up to find Hyunjin already looking at him.

Hyunjin huffs, but it sounds uncertain. “It’s Minho hyung and Changbin hyung, do you really think they won’t be fine?”

Felix nods in agreement, bumping his shoulder with Jisung’s gently. “Right. They’re going to be okay, Sungie.”

Jisung nods slowly, his feet speeding up as he hurries to keep up with Seungmin and Jeongin. 

The last floor is suspiciously empty too, and silent.

Not for long though. 

Within the first hour of them investigating the ground floor, all they find is that none of the doors open and the vented flooring below them is just that. 

The floorplan is similar to what they could see from the little window in the second floor landing door, with the last floor they could see being what they have deemed the ground floor. The ceiling is made entirely of glass, letting in light that’s somehow cold despite the warmth of the sun. 

The last floor is almost entirely open and exposed to the ceiling, with the exception of the large load bearing pillars in the middle of the floor. The other levels are all hollowed out with white metal barred banisters lining the corridors. The hallways of each level are filled white uniform white doors, probably spaced out just as uniformly. The doors are all locked, with no numbers or windows to differentiate one from another.

The ground floor is a little more interesting, in terms of its layout. It stretches beyond the open space below the ceiling, under the floors above it, almost like an empty warehouse. 

Felix can’t find anything worth noticing here, nor any evidence that the guards have held Minho and Changbin down here either. He doesn’t want to admit it out loud, especially to Jisung, who is practically vibrating from how on edge he is, or Jeongin, who looks like a deer in the headlights with how he keeps staring at everything with such wide eyes.

But he also doesn’t think he could tell Chan, who is clearly worried about more than just Changbin and Minho. 

He’s nudged out of his thoughts by Seungmin, who places a hand on his shoulder and gives him a concerned look when he blinks up at him. “Chan hyung said we’re going to regroup,” the younger says. “Are you okay?”

Felix nods immediately. “Yeah, I just didn’t find as much as I thought we would have found down here. This place is practically empty.”

Seungmin agrees as they make their way back to the others. “Yeah, it’s almost impossible to find anything. And I’m still suspicious of the lack of guards.”

Felix is too. In fact, to be honest, that’s probably his biggest concern, rather than the lack of evidence or incriminating information. The government hasn’t been particularly supportive of Sentinels to begin with, it makes sense that they would turn a blind eye to the way those who are trying to help Sentinels are treated. From the tests to determine whether a kid has a higher affinity to manifesting as a Sentinel to the often blatant anti-Sentinel propaganda that filled the school’s walls and curriculum, it makes sense that the government hasn’t stepped in.

They likely won’t, not unless the general public begins to express similar sentiments to those they’ve labeled as rebels.

Actually, speaking of tests, Felix still has no idea how Minho managed to evade the test—as much as he hates to praise the government, the test is foolproof. 

Is that why they can’t find Minho now?

No, that makes no sense. There’s no way they would remember some random kid and connect him with the most powerful Sentinel in the world—and history—or his Guide. It’s more likely that they haven’t been able to find any Sentinel brave enough to try and infiltrate their facility so that they could experiment on them.

“Did you find anything?” Hyunjin’s voice is hushed, but it still echoes in the seemingly empty facility. 

Felix shakes his head dully. “Everything is sealed and seems to be empty. I don’t know if there even is anything to find. You?”

Jisung shakes his head first and Hyunjin follows shortly after. “You’re right about this place being practically empty. We couldn’t get anything to open either, and there’s nothing down here.”

“Do you think we might still be in the simulation?” Seungmin asks suddenly. “There’s something off about this place, it doesn’t feel real.”

“That’s normal though,” Chan says, coming up to join them with Jeongin in tow. “When we get used to the simulation, reality can feel a bit lax afterwards, it’s important that we find a way to stay grounded in reality so that our consciousnesses don’t start to crave the simulation again—that could easily result in brain damage.”

No one speaks, each one letting Chan’s words soak in. Felix’s gaze flickers to the elder to find him already looking at him. His lips part in surprise; Chan’s gaze drops.

A loud crash startles all of them, the wall farthest from them practically shattering as three guards fly through it unconscious. 

“You went too far!” A familiar voice hisses. 

Another crash; this time four guards fly through the preexisting hole in the wall. Felix ducks out from behind the pillar he’s hiding behind to see if it’s who he thinks it is, eyes widening at what he sees.

“Minho hyung!” Jisung beats him to it, practically throwing himself at Minho, hugging him tightly. Felix settles for hugging Changbin first, pleased to note that at least he doesn’t seem too injured, just looks mildly fatigued from his time in the simulation.

Minho, on the other hand, doesn’t look much better off than when Felix first met him, when he and Changbin had gone out for a supply run and heard the news that an ARMY group had been caught and that they were searching for the lone survivor, the ace of the group.

_Lee Know._

“You guys are okay,” Felix breathes into Changbin’s shoulder, too relieved to let go. The elder laughs fondly, nodding.

“Yah, Yongbokkie, have some faith in us, of course we’re fine. Do you think Minho hyung would have let those guards stop him? I told him he was taking it too far, but he insisted on making an entrance.”

There’s clearly more to it that neither of them are saying, something to do with why they were delayed in exiting the simulation, but Felix knows that this something that will stay between Minho and Changbin for a long time. 

Next to them, Hyunjin is trying to rip Jisung off of Minho, but it seems to be in vain, Jisung is really stuck to the elder like an octopus. “Get off, you overgrown quokka, I want to hug Minho hyung too!”

“No!” Jisung clings tighter, not noticing how tired Minho looks, wincing at the way Jisung is squeezing. “You think just because you’re Hwang Hyunjin, you can do whatever you want?”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, pulling harder. “When will you let that go, that helped both of us with the mission, hurry up and let go!”

Minho grimaces, finally peeling Jisung off on his own, breathing heavily after that. Hyunjin shoots him a concerned glance, but Minho waves it away, turning to Chan. “Now what?”

Felix turns to Chan too, waiting for their leader to say something.

“You guys are okay?” Chan asks cautiously, question directed at Changbin, but worry directed at Minho, who leans heavily against Hyunjin. For once, the younger has no complaint as he hugs Minho and supports him, chin resting on the elder’s shoulder.

Changbin chances a glance at Minho too, only for him to nod at the younger. Still, Changbin hesitates before he agrees, nodding once shortly. 

“Jeongin and I found maps on the side, and I don’t know how reliable they are, but I do remember hearing buses. We’re going to steal one of those and get out of here.”

Minho snorts. “As wonderfully simple as that sounds, the guards don’t care that we’re out here—well, they might care that Changbin and I got out a little sooner, but there’s nothing in here. The facility is empty on purpose, everyone that’s supposed to be in here is either dead or they’ve already been transported elsewhere. All the guards are focused on blocking our escape.”

Felix frowns, looking around the ground floor once more. That does make sense but… Was it so wrong of him to want something to be easy, for once? 

Changbin leans down to pull the weapons from the unconscious guards, passing them around to everyone but Minho, who raises his eyebrow.

“What? You’re dangerous enough without one, why do you think they—”

Minho clears his throat sharply and Changbin abruptly stops talking. Jisung and Chan both look up at this, but Minho and Changbin refuse to meet each other’s gazes, much less the other two.

“Anyway,” Seungmin cuts in when the silence gets to be slightly suffocating. “We’re all well equipped and know how to use these. And since there’s no one else left here, we can take down the entire facility on our way.”

Jeongin crosses his arms, looking around warily. “You mean burn it down?”

Now there’s an idea. Burn down this miserable facility. Felix is all for it, but Chan looks less convinced.

“Wouldn’t that draw unnecessary attention towards us?” Hyunjin voices what must be Chan’s worries, but he doesn’t sound like he believes it all that much, more like he just says it because he knows Chan is hesitant to immediately shoot down the idea.

Felix wonders if that means Chan is considering its merits too.

“Why not burn it down?” Jisung retorts. “There’s no point in leaving it standing—they would only use it to come after us, which okay, that’s not the _worst,_ but they would also come after other Sentinels, and as far as we know, none of them are as strong as Minho hyung. We would be doing everyone a favor if we burned this place down.”

Minho snorts, smiling fondly at Jisung, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Changbin is focused entirely on Minho, eyes unreadable.

What are they so hesitant to even acknowledge?

They end up deciding to burn the place down when Minho almost passes out. He claims that he’s fine and that it’s just exhaustion, but Felix knows better. He thinks his paranoia has spread to the others too, because no one really buys it—but it’s not like they have time to let him rest and heal, though Felix thinks there’s more to it than just that, what with how Minho keeps avoiding his _Guide_.

They end up using the hole Minho created to find the headquarters and find their way from the lower level, nearly escaping the facility and entering the compound when the guards finally catch up to them. 

“You guys go ahead,” Chan instructs Changbin and Minho. “Get somewhere safe and find out what you can hear—and clear the path if you can, but don’t make that your priority.”

Felix has no doubt that they are going to ignore that, but he hopes that they’ll try to take care of themselves.

“We’ll cover you,” Hyunjin says, hugging Minho tightly before letting go. Jisung immediately clings to him once more, and finally, Felix gets his turn.

“Stay safe, hyung,” he whispers, leaning back slightly to rub their noses together. Minho smiles softly back at him, arms weak where they’re wrapped around the small of his back.

“You too, Lixie.”

And then they’re gone.

* * *

  
  


Minho is quiet as they slip through the hallway, silently knocking the guards back before Changbin even has a chance to use his taser.

“Hyung, slow down,” he mutters, practically jogging to keep up. He swears Minho isn’t that much taller than him, what is a couple of inches in the long run anyway? But Minho seems so much faster than that and he’s just walking. “Hyung!”

Minho turns around, eyes wide like he forgot about Changbin.

Nice, the most powerful Sentinel in the world forgot about his Guide.

(But also? Minho forgot about Changbin? That hurts a little)

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “I just can’t wait to get out of here.”

He can say that again. The stark white walls have grown increasingly claustrophobic the longer they have been in here, and Changbin can’t even blame Minho for wanting to leave.

“Me too,” he admits easily, breathing slightly heavily. “But it’s not going to help anyone if you push yourself so hard that you zone out.”

“I’m not going to,” Minho retorts curtly, words clipped.

Changbin scoffs not unkindly. “You already did once, remember? I could barely get you to remember where we were, let alone that the simulation wasn’t real. We don’t have the same kind of cushioning that we did then though—you need to slow down.”

Minho shakes his head, scoffing and turns to leave, but Changbin grabs his arm and pulls him into the slightly ajar control room. Minho knocks out both the guards in the room and tosses them in the closet, locking it behind them before facing Changbin again with his arms crossed over his chest.

“What?”

Changbin shakes his head stepping closer to take Minho’s hand and place it against his chest. “Focus. You’re out of sync.”

Minho frowns like he never even realized. He closes his eyes, licking his lips subconsciously as he does his thing, pinching Changbin’s arm when he feels his heart rate start to speed up. “Stop that. You have to relax.”

Changbin doesn’t have the heart to tell him that Minho’s close proximity is never going to help him relax, especially when he does stop like that, but tries his best to relax and bring his heart rate back to normal.

It seems to work, because Minho doesn’t ask him to relax again, syncing their heart beats together.

He should be used to it, after the past two months of working together as Sentinel and Guide, prior to being pushed into the simulation, but it still sends shivers down his spine when Minho pulls away.

Then again, it might just be the elder’s power.

He truly is captivating.

Minho scans the cameras through the screens in front of him. “We only have a few more, I don’t hear anything other than basic radio chatter. We might have actually gotten lucky this time around.”

Changbin will take what they can get. Their luck has reached a disastrous all time low after getting caught, anything has to be better than that.

Minho grabs his hand, pulling him out of the room, the explosives needed in his hand. “Let’s go, we have to hurry before they realize exactly how many we took out and then call for backup.”

Changbin doesn’t even question how casual he is about this, he knows that Minho has been doing this for far longer, what with his previous group and his current occupation, it’s no surprise that he knows how to handle explosives.

They meet back up with the others after finding the map they need. Jeongin holds up a pair of keys in his hand, swinging them back and forth. “We found the bus too.”

Minho waves a hand ahead, gesturing for Changbin to go first. He follows behind the younger, and they’re the last ones on the bus. 

According to the map, they have an hour ride to the end of the compound, where they’re the most likely to be ambushed by the remaining guards.

Minho sinks into the seat, leaning heavily against Changbin’s shoulder. Changbin pushes him down gently so that his head is in Changbin’s lap instead and braces a hand by his torso so he doesn’t slide when the bus lurches forward.

Minho protests sluggishly, attempting to sit up, but Hyunjin leans across the aisle to push him down too. “Get some rest hyung, it’s not over yet, but if even a little will help, then take the chance. We can hold the fort down for a little while.”

Minho mutters something, but Changbin doesn’t understand what he says, choosing instead to caress Minho’s hair gently, hoping that it’s a little comforting.

* * *

_One month into surveying the area and scouting out the new facility, things go sideways. Fast._

_It starts with Minho dragging Changbin out of his evening brooding session to scout out the area, suspecting movement from the southeast quadrant from the Bureau’s own androids._

_But that’s the problem with androids, isn’t it? They simply can’t measure up to the caliber of sentients. And neither can measure up to Sentinels, certainly not the likes of Lee Minho._

_Minho lets Jisung know he’s on his way out and they both leave_ — _and for a minute, it’s as simple as that._

_Until they realize they’re running low on gas approximately fifteen miles on the freeway off of their safehouse. That’s normal enough, though. Cars need gasoline and while Minho and Changbin ideally wouldn’t be the ones showing their faces, especially Minho, it’s not impossible that this would happen either._

_Minho is still injured from his last run-in with the sentients, so Changbin coerces him into staying in the car and keeping a lookout while he fills the tank, by listening to the radio chatter or scanning the stolen police radio to see if anyone is onto them yet. Minho tells him his paranoia is unhealthy, but does as he asks anyway. He’s just as paranoid._

_And then it turns out that the autopay feature is broken, so Changbin heads inside the convenience store to pay, cap shadowing his eyes and mask covering most of his face. Minho taps his fingers against the steering wheel restlessly, counting the seconds it takes for Changbin to come out_ — _except he’s nearing a number far too high and he can’t even see Changbin through the glass convenience store doors anymore._

_Minho unbuckles his seatbelt suspiciously, tugging his mask over his nose and zipping up his hoodie to hide the bandage over the right side of his torso, which can still be faintly seen through his white t-shirt._

_The store appears to be empty when he enters._

_It’s only when he spots Changbin in the corner of the store, hands raised and shaking his head does he realize what’s happening._

_Minho closes his eyes slowly, wincing. He feels the cool metal of a gun pressed against his injured torso and opens them, glaring back at Changbin who looks ready to move. Unfortunately for the trigger happy sentient posing as a convenience store cashier, Minho is not in the mood to bargain._

_He_ is _a Sentinel, and as much as hates to admit it, he does have an advantage over his assailant._

_He throws his elbow back, nailing the sentient in the gut, twisting to the side as the gun fires. A reflex that saves him, but it still grazes his side. Hyunjin will likely be pissed about having to redo his stitches._

_He throws another punch, shoving the sentient down to the side and gesturing at Changbin to go back to the car as they start to scrabble for their Bureau issued panic button._

_“Keep the car running!” Minho calls out, dodging the sentient’s flailing legs as he searches in vain. Minho grabs the heaviest thing he can find, an umbrella stand, go figure, but it isn’t the weight that matters_ — _he’s strong enough to make the force of the umbrella stand knock the cashier out, but he’s still healing and his injury is not helping matters._

_He misses, the pain in his side pulsing with a renewed sense of vigour._

_And the sentient hits their panic button before passing out._

_Minho grabs their gun, ripping the hoodie off. It’s useless and will probably be used to identify him. He grabs a handful of clothes from the racks behind him, cheap knock off souvenirs with plasticy print that would probably wash off in a day, tossing his soiled t-shirt in the trash too._

_He’s definitely reopened his wound, and that certainly doesn’t help matters. Minho tosses the clothes in the car, instructing Changbin to change his appearance as much as he can—they have under an hour before the Bureau’s first responders arrive here._

_At this point, it doesn’t matter how much attention they attract. There’s no one here, except a sentient with no weapon._

_“Can you move the car?” Minho asks._

_Changbin looks up, a hand on the steering wheel, the other tossing the clothes out of the passenger side window into a trash can. “Are you planning something?”_

_An understatement. Minho walks over to the farthest gas filling station and aims the nozzle so that it’s spilling gasoline everywhere. Changbin gets the point and backs the car up, turning back onto the road. Minho goes around and does the same for all six of the filling stations. When he starts to hear the sounds of helicopter blades whirring from a distance, likely still far enough that Changbin can’t even hear it, he runs for the car, throwing his clothes into the pile and diving through the open door._

_He closes the door behind him breathlessly, patting Changbin’s thigh hurriedly to get him to start driving as he aims out the window and shoots._

_The gas station bursts into flames and Changbin floors it as it explodes, debris shattering from all angles. Minho ducks down, rolling his window closed once more. He reaches for the clothes he had previously chucked into the car, pulling on a poorly made pair of utility pants and a long sleeve t-shirt. At least they’re both black this time and cover the bandage that’s not going to be doing much for long._

_“How’s your side?” Changbin really is too perceptive for his own good. Minho shakes his head, grinding his teeth as he tries to listen in better._

_“It’s fine,” he grits out. “Four squadrons being sent in_ — _one android unit_ — _headed southwest on the eastbound metro express_ — _”_

_“As great as all of that is, we’re headed in the same direction.” Changbin curses, switching lines as he enters the highway. He speeds up, dash easily passing 200 kmh. Nine more kilometers per hour and the car will start to fail._

_Changbin curses agin, louder this time, when Minho tells him this._

_“They’re gaining on us,” Minho mutters, grabbing Changbin’s wrist and pressing his fingers against it to try and sync. It’s harder like this, when both of them are largely running on adrenaline and their heart rates are racing alongside their car. “We need to get out of here.”_

_“Well, what do you suggest? We’re on the highway, there’s really no way to hide.”_

_Minho looks ahead_ — _really looks_ — _and spies a flyover. Off the side is a largely abandoned parking garage next to the half demolished remains of an office building. The rebellion has managed to slow down reconstruction and Minho is sure that they’ll be able to take cover there for a little while_ — _and if they were to have to fight their way out, it would be the ideal battleground to give them an upperhand._

_“20 kilometers ahead,” Minho instructs, twisting backwards to listen for the helicopter. “There’s a flyover that’ll cross over. I’m going to throw you out of the car and then crash it there. Let them think we screwed up, the car failed, and we died. And then we can take cover in the old demolished building V’s team managed to stop reconstruction for.”_

_“You’re insane if you think I’m letting you crash the car,” Changbin says, accelerating a little faster despite his protests. “Or that you’re throwing me out of it.”_

_“Figure of speech.” Minho waves his concern away. “Change of plans, we’re going to aim directly for the building. The helicopter’s gaining on us.”_

_Changbin clicks his tongue, shaking his head but does as Minho says. “Minho hyung, if we die_ — _”_

_Minho clamps a hand over his mouth before he can finish that sentence, thumb brushing over his lips far more gentler than his previous motion. “Don’t.”_

_Changbin turns to look at him, eyes dark. “We never talked about it.”_

_Minho nods, forcing cheer into his voice as he balances the conversation and listening at the same time, timing his breaths to the beat of Changbin’s heart. “Listen to me. Seo Changbin, you are not dying here. I promise you’re not dying on my watch.”_

_Changbin’s voice is oddly soft, drifting from somewhere farther, but resonating around him as he sighs and says, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. I’m not afraid of dying_ — _I don’t think I can watch you get hurt any longer.”_

_Minho giggles pressing two of his fingers against Changbin’s lips before lifting them. He doesn’t feel like he’s too present at the moment._

_Everything moves too fast, but he feels sluggish, like his motions aren’t really his. He feels Changbin grab his hand tightly and squeezes back to let him know that he’s still there._

_They tumble out of the car in a heap, the airbags deflating as they cough at the smoke that comes from the car. It lost a wheel from the impact and the back of it was crushed entirely from Changbin swerving at the last minute to hit the empty back half of the car on impact rather than risk their lives further._

_He finds himself standing face to face with Changbin by an abandoned car with a wheel missing, next to an empty parking garage. The smell of smoke is overwhelming, likely from the car, but he can almost sense that the fire isn’t near them._

_“Minho hyung?”_

_A crash has them both spinning around, ducking behind the smoking car to avoid being seen._

_“What the heck,” Changbin breathes, watching a squadron of officers in uniform continue to barrel through the freeway, knocking cars aside as they wish._

_“They’re here for us,” Minho whispers, but no, that doesn’t sound right. “They’re here for me.”_

_“Minho hyung, you have to wake up!”_

_Huh? Changbin’s voice sounds further off, disorientingly so, but he can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from. He staggers to his feet unevenly, a sharp pang of pain running through his leg, and oh, that’s not good—_

_Changbin shoots up to his feet as well, hands landing on Minho’s shoulders. The elder’s arms instinctively rest on his waist, waiting for the younger to speak._

_“Hyung, you’re zoning out, you need to focus,” Changbin murmurs, voice low but still the loudest thing in Minho’s mind. “Come back, Minho.”_

_He should be slapping Changbin for that, shouldn’t he? A playful reminder that he’s older, but it sounds right, and the ringing in his ears subsides whenever Changbin speaks anyway, so he lets it go._

_“Changbinnie?”_

_“We’re almost out of there, hyung. You need to come back to us—focus, okay?”_

_Focus on what? Minho’s legs give out and he crumples. He would’ve fallen altogether if it weren’t for Changbin’s quick reflexes. He closes his eyes. Minho is so tired, he just wants to rest a little, okay?_

_“Lee Minho!” Changbin’s voice jolts him awake once more and he opens his eyes drowsily, aware of his head resting in Changbin’s lap._

_“Binnie, ‘m tired,” he mumbles, words slurred together. “And my head hurts.”_

_Changbin eyebrows are scrunched up and Minho thinks he looks too worried like that. He lifts a weary hand up to poke at them, pressing at the crease between his eyebrows until Changbin, surprised, straightens them out, looking down at Minho with wide eyes. Minho giggles. “There.”_

_And then it clicks._

_“They’re almost to the border of the facility,” Minho recites, hand pressed against Changbin’s chest with his eyes closed._

_“Can you hear what they’re saying?”_

_Minho tilts his head slightly, listening carefully. “—a kilometer south of the west border—a prison break with no casualties yet—a chemical explosion in the east wing—”_

_“Hyung, that’s enough, come back.”_

_‘“—further north is a sentient brigade—searching for two survivors separated from their group—”_

_“Minho hyung, come back!”_

_Minho inhales sharply. “Where’s the exit 4419?”_

_Changbin curses darkly. “The closest to us. They’re looking for us.” Minho blinks slowly, sitting up even slower. Changbin is already standing, scanning their surroundings. The officials they had seen before seem to have disappeared but neither of them are foolish enough to drop their guard. “We need a car.” Minho stares blankly at the smoking abomination in front of them before looking back at the garage._

_“I can drive,” he offers, swaying as he stands. Changbin lets him lean against him, supporting him with an arm around his waist as he half drags him to the nearest functioning car._

_Changbin glares at him, shoving him in the passenger seat before reclining the seat as far back as it goes. “You’re insane if you think you’ll be driving anywhere any time soon. You barely made it out of the last car when it blew up, don’t think you’ll ever be driving again at this rate.”_

_“Blew up?” Minho slurs, shifting when the seatbelt presses into his neck. “I don’t remember that.”_

_The look Changbin gives him means that the younger probably does, but he’s focused on driving in the next instant anyway, so Minho doesn’t get to hear any more on that matter. “You should, considering they were after you, Mr. Strongest Sentinel the World and The Bureau Chasing You Has Ever Seen.”_

_Minho scoffs tiredly, closing his eyes. “I could have sworn the Bureau didn’t know.”_

_“Didn’t know about Lee Know, the biggest threat to their plot to control the districts and further the convergence of androids and sentients?”_

_He thinks Changbin says more, but he’s too far under to hear any of that. All he knows is the comfort the darkness brings._

_His eyes shoot open at the sensation of pain in his side, glaring at Changbin who looks back at him equally stonily, though it wavers, intertwining with fear. “You can’t fall asleep, Minho hyung, or they’ll kill us. You promised, remember?”_

_Right, he had told the younger Changbin wasn’t dying while he was around._

_But he’s so tired…_

_He forces himself to push the pain away, biting his teeth as he wraps the hoodie he had salvaged and pressing it to where his wound is bleeding again. “We’re too far from the city,” he mutters, thinking of the brilliant neon cityscapes of the nights and the height of technology that all but collapses into grey nothingness in the day._

_He misses the sound of footsteps, and despite the pain helping him focus, he’s increasingly distracted by the thought of getting Changbin hurt. He misses the squadron’s approach entirely and before they know it, they are surrounded._

_He screws up._

“You won’t be seeing much of anything for much longer, really, Lee Know.”

* * *

Minho wakes with a start, gasping so suddenly that Hyunjin whirls around from the window to cast a concerned glance at him. As usual, Minho waves it off, hand pressed against his side in a way that he knows Changbin notices. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, but the younger hears him just fine, even without enhanced Sentinel hearing.

Somehow, they’re on the same page. Changbin tilts his head innocently above him. “For what? It’s not like this was your fault.”

To some extent, Minho can’t help but think it is. He doesn’t voice this to Changbin though, he knows a moot point when he sees one. The only reason the Bureau is after them in the first place is because Minho is a Sentinel. The only reason they’re in this facility is because he couldn’t focus for long enough to warn Changbin and get them out of there.

Granted, he isn’t entirely sure how Chan, Hyunjin, Felix, Jeongin, Jisung, and Seungmin ended up in there, but he’s sure it can be traced back to their involvement with him. 

The Bureau is obsessed. 

“There’s a line of guards in front,” Chan reports, looking over Seungmin’s shoulder. Minho sits up slowly, squeezing Changbin’s hand where it hovers near him protectively. His head is still pounding, but he can at least think clearly without feeling like blacking out. It needs far more rest than he has time for right now, but he feels better.

“Drive through them,” Changbin speaks up, surprisingly. He’s not the team strategist, not by a long shot. He tends to see the details well but not so much the big picture the way Felix manages to see both. It’s not unlike the strategy Minho had proposed that had gotten them in this mess in the first place, but it could work. Minho stands up on shaky legs, almost falling over, supported by a hand around his waist from Hyunjin and another from Changbin. 

He rights himself with a hand gripping the bus seats as he makes his way to the front, oddly aware of Changbin’s eyes burning holes in his back. “Open the door at the back and I can throw these out as soon as we’re clear of the immediate guards. There’s clearly still research and data that they haven’t saved yet because they think they’ll be able to contain us; they won’t be able to come after us and try to save their data.”

Jeongin eyes the explosives in Minho’s hand. “That’s not enough.”

Hyunjin holds up four more in his hands. “Is this enough?”

Jeongin nods hesitantly. Even Chan looks to be considering the merits of the idea. “If you’re sure, Lee Know.”

Minho rolls his eyes, smirking at Chan. “Of course I’m sure, CB97.”

Chan flushes at the code name and turns around again, gesturing for Minho to get on with it. Jeongin stands up and follows him to the back, ready to open the door on Minho’s count.

Seungmin accelerates slowly, increasing the speed of the bus until he’s pushing 100 kmh by the time they hit the gate. The bus crashes through the guards easily, undeterred by the gate either. 

When they’re a third of a kilometer away from the gate, Minho nudges Jeongin to open the emergency exit in the back. The alarm that rings as a result of this hurts as it echoes in his ears and doesn’t help with his headache at all. Changbin is at his side in an instant, a comforting presence behind him that grounds Minho and lets him focus on what he needs to without struggling to breathe without feeling overwhelmed.

They’re at the gate before the guards can even blink and Minho has the explosives in his hand, tied together with one of Hyunjin’s hair ribbons. He rears back, chucking them forward with enough force to break the door of the bus if that was what he was going for. 

The explosives fly forward, the ribbon disintegrating due to the force and scattering them as intended. Jeongin hands Minho the long range electric taser and Minho aims at each one individually, shooting the explosive to set it off.

Jeongin is the first to sit in his seat again as Seungmin speeds up further, and Changbin is close behind him.

Just as the bus barrels through the electric fence, Minho aims for the last one, lighting them all up in what appears to be slow motion as the bus steamrolls forward as fast as it can go. 

Minho turns around, light by the light of the exploding facility behind him as he marches back to his seat.

The bus continues to speed away, the growing blue flames licking up the remains of the ruined facility and consuming the compound at a similar speed. 

Won’t be seeing much of anything? Hardly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo what'd you think? i think this might be my best chapter yet, not to brag, but i'm kind of proud of it !! in other news, i now have a twitter au (@VERENDUSAU) that's a dark academia themed superpower type beat, so if you're interested, you can always check that out !! and, courtesy of roshini, who (if you're reading this hi! i love you!) keeps enabling me, there will be a new hyunho spy/secret agent au coming out after this (yes, our lovely minbin fic is coming to a close) and it'll be something i've never written before - i'm thinking more action, more tension, more suggestive content, more plot twists, but nothing nsfw bc i can't write that for the life me, y'all saw how much i cried over writing intimacy between characters ;(
> 
> anyway. i hope y'all liked this and know i appreciate all comments so so much !! y'all are the reason i keep writing and posting and i'm so grateful to each and everyone of you.


	11. [ruminate]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second is the most prominent Sentinel and the second most powerful Sentinel, second only to Minho. 
> 
> V.
> 
> “We need your help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> special thanks to my 2017/2018 spotify liked songs for pushing me to write faster and really just getting me to write more... this chapter is sponsored by chlorine by twenty one pilots, which i had on loop for quite some time while writing...
> 
> ( not to mention all the austin simps on the tl... if you know, you know ;)

They ditch the bus nearly a hundred miles out from the ruined facility, hotwiring an abandoned car from the side of the road. It’s an uncomfortably tight fit, trying to squeeze in eight of them into a car meant for five. Hyunjin gets the driver’s seat by default as the tallest, and Seungmin takes the passenger seat as the second tallest.

The back row is an even tighter squeeze. Chan sits in the middle, with Changbin squished onto his lap. Jeongin sits behind Seungmin, complaining about Jisung’s weight from where he sits in the youngest’s lap. Only Felix and Minho look comfortable, with Felix curled up against Minho.

“You okay?” Chan asks, looking at both of them. Minho raises an eyebrow at him, eyeing Felix and opting to stay quiet. It hurts a little, the blatant dismissal, but he knows why Minho is acting like this. He can’t even blame him anymore. 

Felix nods, hair brushing against Minho’s hand where it’s cradling his head to prevent any injuries borne from Hyunjin’s reckless driving. “Yeah, you?”

Chan nods too, suddenly feeling awkward. It’s never been awkward between them before, why does it feel so weird to talk to each other like this now?  
  


Changbin snorts, watching the interaction amusedly. This gets Minho’s attention, but he only frowns and turns his head to watch the world blur by, chin tucked over Felix’s shoulder.

Chan nudges Changbin, who simply shakes his head. _I don’t know either,_ he mouths, and though Chan can tell that that’s only half of the truth, he doesn’t push it. If they don’t feel comfortable talking about it yet, then there’s no need to bring it up. As long as it doesn’t endanger any of them or hurt any of them, then that’s all that matters.

Even if he doesn’t quite trust Minho to open up if it’s putting _him_ in danger, he can only hope that he doesn’t try to take on too much on his own.

“Hyunjin, look,” Seungmin is saying, voice cracking when Hyunjin steamrolls over a speed bump, sending their stomachs careening into their throats and their hearts into their stomachs. “All I’m saying is that this is a residential area.” He almost chokes on his words as their driver _drifts_ through the turn. “We should, you know, drive like residents?”

Hyunjin probably rolls his eyes at this, Chan can’t tell from behind. Not to mention, the constant turbulence from his insane driving is starting to give him a headache. He has no idea how Minho is managing things right now.

“Hyunjin,” Jisung drawls when he almost hits his head after a particularly rough speed bump that Jeongin only clings to him during. “If you don’t slow down and start driving normally, I will throw you out of the window. You’re more likely to kill us if you keep driving like this, you speed demon.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Hyunjin grits out, but he does ease up on the breaks slightly. “Though, I guess you would have to live through this for that, huh?”

It’s taunting and completely unnecessary, but really, Hyunjin and Jisung wouldn’t be Hyunjin and Jisung without their bickering, so Chan doesn’t step in. Neither of them are particularly serious about much more other than Hyunjin easing up on the breaks—which, Chan will admit he’s all for too, since he isn’t too keen on an early death in Hyunjin’s blaze of glory either.

“We’re here anyway,” Seungmin interrupts before Jisung can break out of Jeongin’s hold and actually attack. “Hyunjin, for the love of all that is holy, would you slow down?”

Miraculously, Hyunjin does, lowering their speed back down to a normal and appropriate enough pace for the suburban neighborhood. 

The safehouse is a suburban house that GOT7, Chan’s former associates, used to use before they headed north to handle the second facility, leaving it Chan and his ‘Stray Kids,’ as their seniors had fondly nicknamed them, to handle the first one on their own.

Chan spares a moment to wonder how they’re doing. He hasn’t heard from them in a while, but they _had_ managed to get Jackson into their simulation—and BamBam and Yugyeom had managed to send them a sign that they were trapped in a simulation. They must be doing better now, right?

He uses the tablet he finds in the car, an unencrypted one at that, to briefly scan over the news and get their bearings back. They’ve been trapped in the simulation for a good eight weeks now, which admittedly, isn’t as long as he was expecting it to be, but long enough for it to have hindered their progress. Changbin looks on, humming at the news thoughtfully when Chan almost scrolls past an article detailing the destruction of a compounded facility not unlike the one they just demolished in their escape.

“You think…” The younger trails off, looking at Chan, who nods slowly.

“GOT7,” Chan murmurs. “That must have been what BamBam was trying to tell us in the simulation.”

Minho turns to look at them, still curled around Felix, who’s fallen asleep despite the horrible driving conditions. He looks oddly comfortable though, snuggled up to Minho like a cat.

Chan wants to say he didn’t see it coming, but really, that would just be ignorant of him. He watched Felix crush on Minho when the former ARMY agent found himself relying on Changbin and Felix to stay alive. He watched that crush fade as Felix realized it was never romantic, the admiration and love he held for the elder. He watched Felix turn to Minho in ways that he used to turn to Chan. He watched Felix completely accept Minho.

It wasn’t one sided though, not in the slightest. Actually, watching Minho’s growth was something else, entirely. Like watching someone who spent their life with their eyes closed finally open them and see the world in color.

When Minho first stumbled upon Changbin and Felix, he was entirely distrusting and guarded, and the quietest person in the room. Oddly enough, it was Jisung, who kept sticking to him, open about his own admiration for Minho, and his fascination and open acceptance of his being a Sentinel, that got Minho to open up a little.

Felix was the last person Minho really opened up to, but he always went out of his way to protect him. Chan wonders if it was similar, the way Minho’s perception of Felix changed, but then again, Minho has always cared for all of them. 

His jealousy is baseless, when it comes down to it. Minho and Felix are as close to family as it gets, what with Felix not knowing much about his family and Minho having watched his parents die in an accident that was intended to kill him.

He doesn’t talk about it, but Chan knows his greatest worry is losing Felix. Losing all of them, of course, but Felix really has become his family.

And really, Chan would _know._ After all, that’s his greatest fear too.

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until Changbin nudges him, looking at Minho. Chan shakes his head to clear his thoughts. “What?”

Minho blinks. “You were staring.”

Changbin snorts, and Minho pinches his arm, to which the younger squeals. “You were, you were,” Changbin mutters. “Ow, did you have to pinch so hard?”

“You had this look on your face,” Minho mutters sullenly, but even despite how long his hair has grown, Chan can see how red the tips of his ears are.

Ah, is that what this is about?

Chan shakes his head again. “No, I was just thinking.”

“Don’t strain yourself too hard,” Changbin and Minho say at the same time, looking at each other the second the words come out of their mouths. Changbin looks so fond and Minho, lips parted slightly, head tilted like he’s seeing the younger in a new light… well, Chan feels like he’s intruding by being in the middle of it all. He wishes he was asleep like Felix, or in the mood to start a fight, like the other four.

Who are still loudly arguing about how Hyunjin should have parked the car, or something equally useless.

“Shut up,” Changbin says without much heat. “If you don’t want the neighbors to figure out that we’ve been gone for so long.”

That gets them. Seungmin is the first to stop, looking a bit ashamed with himself for getting wrapped up in their argument. Jeongin is the next, though he is neutral, likely how he ended up in the argument in the first place. 

Hyunjin and Jisung give each other one last glare before they stop too. Jisung gets out to flip the switch on the driveway that activates the mechanism underneath to bring the car into the garage below the driveway, the underground one that connects to 3racha’s workspace and Minho and Changbin’s training facility.

Hyunjin eases the car off the panel, opening the glass window on the car roof to check and make sure that the driveway panel resets properly, in such a way that no one else will be able to find it.

They step out of the car, the cool of the underground stone refreshing against their flushed skin and cramping limbs.

A screen rises from the floor, with glowing red letters and their logo, written in Chan’s handwriting.

_Stray Kids everywhere all around the world._

* * *

Chan’s quick debrief ends up going over time by at least two hours, but Minho doesn’t mind all that much. He isn’t really sleepy, not the way Felix is, half asleep against his shoulder, the way Changbin is as he keeps nodding off and then waking up the minute the side of his head touches Minho’s shoulder, or the way Jeongin and Seungmin are curled together, around Jisung, who isn’t even bothering to hide that he’s fast asleep.

He feels bad for Chan, because he knows the elder is dedicated to this and will patiently explain it all to them again in the morning, and while he doesn’t mind listening, he and Hyunjin are their team’s best field agents, not strategists. Their best strategists look the sleepiest; and one of them is even fast asleep. 

There’s no doubt that there being only one last facility out of three that is left for them to take down and let the government regain control of the state is important, motivational—and, though he would never admit it—inspirational, but it’s clear that this isn’t the best moment to be discussing it.

“Chan hyung…” Hyunjin starts, quietly, after sharing a glance with Minho, but he trails off.

“Chan hyung,” Minho interrupts firmly. “Hyung, everyone’s tired and could use some time to recover from the simulation; it’s always mentally draining. You look tired too.”

Chan’s eyes narrow at this. “And you’re _not_ tired?”

Hyunjin looks between the two of them before nodding. “I mean, I can only speak for myself, but yes? I might not be as _sleepy_ as the others, but I _am_ tired.”

Chan shakes his head. “Not you, your dark circles gave you away. You.”

Minho holds his gaze easily, shrugging. “Not particularly. But you know how it is.”

Chan doesn’t, and Minho knows that too. He’s the only one that understands how wired his brain feels, as a Sentinel, and how it never seems to quiet. Chronic insomnia might be more of Chan’s thing, but that’s rooted less in his genetics and more in his brain chemistry. Chan’s insomnia is fixed by medicine; Minho’s is because he no longer needs the same amount of sleep or rest as the average human being. 

He’s something else now.

“Let it go,” Minho murmurs, exposed under his gaze but unrelenting. “I’m fine.”

He is, mostly. The psychological damage from the simulation has most likely already been resolved by his neurons working overtime, and while he knows that there’s something to be said about his lack of memory from certain periods of time and trauma, it isn’t directly affecting him in any way. For all he knows, it could just be a side effect of being a Sentinel. It isn’t like there’s a manual on how being Sentinel works or anything like that.

What he knows from the simulation, about V and JK is true—and the most he knows about Sentinels to date. And they were the norm, Minho isn’t even that.

Chan lets it go, in the end. There isn’t anything he can do about it—he knows, and so does Minho. He appreciates the elder caring, but there’s only so much he can do. The others still need to rest, so they manage to get settled in the bedrooms upstairs, above the bunker.

It’s hardly ten in the night and they’re all asleep. All but Minho, who quietly makes his way downstairs, carefully pushing both Hyunjin and Felix off from where they’re clinging to him. He smiles softly as Felix latches onto Hyunjin for warmth, sighing comfortably. 

It’s the little things like this that remind him of why they’re still fighting. And that it will all be worth it someday. 

It’s dark outside, but the city lights are bright enough that even from a distance, they manage to cast a faint neon haze over their suburban skies. If it weren’t for the growing industrialization, they would probably be able to see the stars from here.

“You’re still awake.” 

Minho snorts, sitting down and making himself comfortable. “Didn’t I tell you I would be?”

Chan shrugs, pulling his knees to his chest to stay warm. Minho sighs exaggeratedly, wrapping an arm around the elder’s shoulders to pull him closer. “You could still use the rest, Minho.”

Oh, he knows. He _can’t_ though. It’s hard to explain, but his mind would probably let him see black spots in his vision before it lets him rest. “It’s more complicated than just that,” Minho complains, knowing very well that there’s no way Chan can understand this. 

The elder tilts his head back, resting it against Minho’s shoulder. “You never talk about it though.”

Minho frowns, looking at the way the fence posts glint in the moonlight. “What do you mean?”

“What it’s like, being a Sentinel.”

Minho scoffs not unkindly. “What do you want me to do, write a how-to book or something? I don’t even understand what’s happening half of the time, hyung, how would I explain it to someone else.”

Chan is quiet, likely waiting for Minho to say more. He always does that, pausing and waiting for Minho to add something more personal. Really though, he doesn’t know what to say. He’s a Sentinel, yes. Does he know how it works? No.

“You have Changbin,” Chan prompts when Minho stays silent. “He helps, right?”

“I have Changbin,” Minho echoes, gaze darting towards the moon. It looks green in the haze of the city lights, but it’s not so strong that his enhanced vision doesn’t pick up on the craters anyway. 

And he does.

He isn’t sure what it is that makes Changbin his Guide over anyone else, but given that this is something that was predetermined by science or fantasy or something that no one really understands other than the way both of their brain chemistries changed after forming the Sentinel-Guide bond, he doubts he’ll ever know. 

“How does that feel, anyway?”

Minho shrugs his free shoulder, not wanting to jostle Chan on the other one. The elder sounds sleepier already, voice quieter and limbs heavier. If this is what it takes to get him to call asleep, then he thinks he wouldn’t mind questioning his identity further. “It’s like… everything gets quiet.”

“When you guys are near each other?” Chan asks softly, voice implying something Minho has been putting off for years. 

“Sure, I guess,” he agrees. “He makes my mind stop speeding up.”

“Felix makes my heart speed up,” Chan admits quietly, voice barely higher than a whisper. 

Minho sighs deeply, quiet for a minute before he speaks. “I know.”

“That’s why you were made at me,” Chan says, shifting to look at Minho again. “Right?”

“I still am,” Minho points out. “And it’s not that I’m _mad_ at you; it’s more that it’s frustrating to watch you and Felix tiptoe around your feelings. You’re hurting each other more by not addressing it. Can’t you see the way Felix looks at you?”

Chan hums. “I know. I never thought this would go on for as long as it did… Am I a coward for saying I never thought we would outlive the rebellion?”

While Minho can certainly relate to that, there’s something about the sentiment that seems off. “You’re telling me you never thought you would outlive a movement you piloted Chan hyung, we are the rebellion. And if you really thought that, you would have just told Felix about your feelings and you guys could have been happy together for a while.” He pauses, exhaling quietly as he drops his gaze from the moon to the wooden deck under them. 

“I know it’s not the same, but acknowledging the bond between Sentinel and Guide; it gives you something to fight for, someone to protect. It makes you more reckless in thought, but less in your actions because at the end of the day, it’s a relationship too. Which means it goes both ways. Hyung, you’ve already tried to make that decision for ‘Lix, and look how well that’s going for you.”

“So, you and Changbin…” Chan trails off, unsure of how to continue. Minho shrugs.

“We’re not you and Felix and it’s not this meant to be kind of thing.” He smiles ruefully. “It could mess with everything, if we tried.”

“That’s why you stopped flirting with him?”

Minho frowns. “I was never flirting with him?”

Chan slides down to rest his head in the younger’s lap, looking up at him with a teasing grin. “Minho. Come on. The tattoo thing?”

Minho flushes, remembering _the tattoo thing_ very vividly. “That wasn’t—he’s the only one that knows how to tattoo. I wasn’t flirting!”

“I was literally right there when you had your tattoo done and you’re telling me that? You guys were so touchy, I swear.”

They were, but… “That was right before the bond,” Minho explains. “Physical contact helps, remember?”

“Fine,” Chan relents, sitting up with a yawn. He stands up slowly, bending down to ruffle Minho’s hair. “I’ll let you think about it on your own.”

“I know how I feel.”

“I know you do,” Chan murmurs placatingly. “I’m just not sure if you’re thinking about your interactions through that lens. And I know I’m not one to talk—”

“You’re not,” Minho interrupts, agreeing easily.

“—but I’m going to talk to Felix about it. He deserves to get his happy ending, even if it hasn’t been the happiest along the way.”

Minho hums, lips twitching. “You better. Keep in mind that if you screw up, you have the strongest Sentinel after you.”

Chan actually shivers at that. “You’re terrifying, Lee Minho.”

Minho laughs openly at that, leaning back with his head against Chan’s knees. “Don’t hurt him. Seriously. I don’t care who you are, I will disembowel you.”

Chan’s eyes widen. “That’s even scarier!” He whines over Minho’s laughter. He tries to satisfy the younger with promises of protecting Felix and treating him right, but Minho ends up laughing his way through them.

It’s only when Chan is closing the patio door that Minho speaks, not even turning around. “He’s happy with just being by your side. And you both deserve a happy ending.”

Chan hums in agreement. “Thank you.” He pauses. “Good night, Min.”

Minho huffs to hide his smile. “You’re this tired and you’re still not going to bed? Go sleep, Chan hyung, you’re talking to Yongbokkie in the morning.”

Chan pales, nodding, but he still smiles softly at Minho, so softly that the younger can hear it in his voice. “Don’t stay up too late.”

Minho waves the concern off easily enough. He really does appreciate it, but he knows he can’t convince Chan that it’s not that simple. Chan is just the kind of person that wants to help and hates when there isn’t anything he can do to help. It’s really not his fault that Minho is the way he is. 

He knows he has changed a bit since joining the team, and even though it hasn’t been smooth sailing from the beginning, he really does think all eight of them are in a good place for now.

The moon looks further away than it normally is and Minho wonders if he’s finally sleepy, or if the world has just come to this… It always looked bigger in the past.

* * *

_Everything is blurry._

_He blinks twice, and maybe it’s the smoke around him, but he still can’t see any better. He curses under his breath, trying his best to salvage whatever he can from the debris, but there’s a stinging pain in his side that won’t go away, and from the way his shirt sticks wetly to his side, he knows what it is._

_He curses again, louder this time._

_He lost his team barely an hour ago, now this? It isn’t like he chose to be a Sentinel or something, why is the Bureau so insistent?_

_Well, technically, they’re after V and his Guide, not Minho, but that’s only because they don’t know that Minho is just as strong and has the same range while being unbounded. He doesn’t want to think about what they would try if they knew of his existence separate from being a part of ARMY._

_It really is better this way, even if that means putting up with the constant attacks._

_Two voices catch his attention and he freezes, straining his hearing to try and listen in. His senses are still dimmed by the canisters of suppressant the sentients had thrown at his unit, but he needs to get out of here. If they find out he survived, then they’ll know he’s a Sentinel. And one with weakened senses at that._

_“Shhh,” the first one hisses, voice loud in contrast to what his words imply. Minho rolls his eyes, gritting his teeth and shifting his weight so that he’s leaning against the flyover support structure. He grimaces when he thinks about how gross the wall is and how much dirt must be on it._

_This is probably more likely to infect his wound in the process of trying to alleviate the pain a little._

_The second voice is deeper, almost ominously so, and it has Minho holding his breath as he waits for the two to pass by._

_Except… that doesn’t quite happen._

_Minho grows increasingly dizzy from the pain, and he finds himself swaying, with nothing to hold onto for support._

_Great, so this is it._

_Except, once again, that doesn’t quite happen._

_His vision is tinged with black around the edges, like a nice vignette from an old movie except he’s twenty and this is his reality, not a movie. He’s barely clinging to consciousness when he hears a loud thud._

_It’s quiet after that._

* * *

Minho blinks twice, not realizing he had closed his eyes in the first place. It feels longer, that he’s been with Chan and the rest of the kids. Not like the brief six months before their time in the simulation, but perhaps that’s what made him stay.

The way everything felt personal.

He closes his eyes again, wondering if sleep is a thing of his past or if he’ll be able to find what he’s looking for in the future.

* * *

_“Yongbok, don’t—”_

_“Hyung, he’s still breathing!”_

_“He could be working with the Bureau!”_

_“It’s the suppressant though, and he’s still alive.”_

_“Oh, then there’s definitely no way we’re waiting here for him to wake up, do you want to get into a fight with a Sentinel?”_

_“What if we help him instead?”_

_Minho groans, the voices around him distorted by that stupid suppressant mist. He’s going to kill whoever came up with; he can’t deal with this every single time he decides to fight back. “Who are you guys?”_

_He blinks and two figures come into view, both shorter than him, but especially the first who spoke. The second has an insanely deep voice._

_Ah, these must be the other two he had heard when he had been trying to hide before. He must have passed out from the pain and they had found him._

_The shorter one gets into a comical fighting stance that the younger just makes a face at before turning back to Minho. “Lee Felix!”_

_“Nice to meet you,” Minho mutters, words slurring slightly as his head continues to pound. He thinks the shorter one starts complaining, but everything’s spinning again, so he isn’t really sure if he can rely on his senses._

_“You told him your name!” He’s screaming, wonderful._

_Felix rolls his eyes, eyeing the smoking debris behind them. Minho can’t discern much of his facial features from the mask or the suit he’s wearing to protect from the suppressant mist; he wants to tell the shorter one to shut up about it, but even swallowing hurts too much._

_“He’s a Sentinel! He could have figured it out,” Felix points out, and okay, maybe he isn’t as reasonable as Minho originally thought, but then again, Sentinels are something akin to unicorns for most people—they either don’t exist, or people don’t know anything about them._

_“I can’t read your mind, Felix,” Minho grits out, one hand pressed against his side and the other against the dusty slab of concrete as he attempts to sit up. “I also can’t really tell what you like because of the suppressant.”_

_That shuts the shorter one up. “You_ are _a Sentinel.”_

_Minho raises an eyebrow, successfully sitting up with a pained grimace. “Really, what gave it away,” he deadpans, running a hand through his hair and wincing at the sharp pain near his scalp._

_“Your forehead’s bleeding,” Felix informs him. “Changbin hyung, Chan hyung wanted a Sentinel on the team, remember?”_

_The shorter one—Changbin, apparently—curses. “Sure, but that wasn’t supposed to be when the Bureau’s tailing us!”_

_“The Bureau’s tailing you?” Minho asks, voice low and steadily, a lethal kind of quiet. “And you didn’t think to mention it to the only Sentinel here?”_

_“We were a bit preoccupied with you, actually, so sorry about that,” Changbin bites out, scanning their surroundings. “You’re probably not of much use with the suppressants in your bloodstream and everything, but I guess we can’t just leave you there.”_

_Felix gapes at the elder, Minho thinks. He can never be too sure with those masks. Changbin’s words cut deep, but he’s used to it. As a Sentinel and a part of the growing rebellion, his greatest asset is that he can be used as bait and fight his way out of it if the mission goes sideways. He can heal faster due to a faster metabolism, and yeah, it sucks that this is all he’s been reduced to, but he’ll put up with it a little longer if it means that no one else has to._

_“You’re bleeding from your side too,” Felix points out, eyes wide with fear. Minho shrugs, glancing down slightly before stopping himself, his head screaming in agony from the slight motion. “How are you still conscious?”_

_Minho wonders that himself. Actually, he’s really curious as to how his senses seem to have cleared up as fast as they have. Despite the pain, they’re almost as strong as they normally are, even with the suppressant running through his veins._

_“I’m fine, actually,” Minho interrupts Changbin’s ranting. Felix continues to look down at him with wide puppy eyes, blinking slowly when Minho meets his gaze._

_“You’re really cool,” he whispers, probably not meant for Minho to hear, but well. That’s inevitable._

_“I’m really not,” Minho counters, pushing himself to his feet miserably. He sways slightly and Felix is quick to steady him, hand lingering around his wrist. “You mentioned the Bureau tailing you, they’re within ten miles from here. Stopped to figure out their radio situation, but whatever you guys did screwed their radars up a bit.”_

_Felix smiles sheepishly. “Actually, we just drove straight for the action here because one of our associates tipped us off about there being an altercation with the Bureau and a Sentinel,” Changbin corrects, looking up from his tablet. “I’m assuming that was you?”_

_As much as Minho has given these two, and as sincere as Felix looks, he can’t bring himself to trust them so easily. “Hardly. I don’t even have a Guide.”_

_“When did you manifest?” Changbin is fast._

_“I don’t actually know,” Minho admits honestly. He’s faster. He’s had literal years to learn to hide this about himself, and losing his parents only taught him that there was no other way to live other than to hide who he really is._

_He probably manifested at three or four, losing his parents a week on his fourth birthday, when they were on the way back home. He was supposed to have been at the lab with them, but after the number of tests they ran on him the last time he was there, he hadn’t been too keen on it. He’d hidden away at home, to the point where his parents couldn’t wait any longer for him._

_They had intended to complete those tests the next day, but well, a car accident at 6:39 pm that evening meant that would no longer be happening._

_The news made no mention of the Bureau’s brilliant brainchildren and pet scientists having a kid. Minho thinks he can forgive his parents for what they did._

_“How can you not know?” Changbin demands, looking him up and down. Minho resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Unless you manifested so early that you don’t remember?”_

_He really does roll his eyes this time. “I wouldn’t know because I didn’t manifest first.” It’s a risk, telling them this, but if they believe him, he’ll have to stick close and make sure they don’t sell him out to the Bureau. Or worse, their science division. “My Guide woke the bond. Although, I really don’t see why that would be any of your concern when the sentients have started moving.”_

_“Which direction?”_

_Interesting._

_“What if I work for the Bureau?”_

_Changbin scoffs in disbelief. “You expect me to believe you work for the same government that would kill you if it could?”_

_“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” Minho points out, nodding at Felix. “You’re new to this, aren’t you?”_

_“You’re bleeding,” Felix repeats again. “Changbin hyung, start the car, he’s coming with us.”_

_“He is?”_

_“Oh, I am?”_

_Felix flushes, but doesn’t back down. “You’re injured, Chan hyung wants to work with a Sentinel, and the Bureau’s after all of us.”_

_Minho clicks his tongue. “Actually, the Bureau thinks I’m dead.”_

_“You’re unregistered?” There’s something other than disbelief in Chanbgin’s voice, something unreadable that sounds an awful lot like pride. But the guy’s known him for all of five minutes, there’s no way he could be proud of anything Minho’s done._

_No one should be._

_“Something like that,” he murmurs, a little more focused on the other name Felix mentioned. Chan… Why does it sound so familiar?_

_“Are you coming with us then?” Changbin asks warily, taking a step towards his car. Minho can hear that it’s still running. “Because we need to leave now. And if you do, then remember that you can’t leave until Chan hyung says you can.”_

_“He’s your leader?”_

_“You haven’t heard of him?”_

_The smoke in the air crackles. A warning. Minho shakes his head. “No, I have. Get in the car, something’s coming this way.”_

_Something turns out to be an IED that Minho barely manages to cover them from using a shard of the flyover that had been taken down. Felix clings to his left, uninjured side, trembling as he gets into the car._

_They cram into the cab of the pickup truck, Changbin in the driver’s seat, Felix in the middle, and Minho in the passenger’s side._

_Felix rips a first aid kit out of the glove compartment, unrolling the bandages and uncorking a bottle of antiseptic. “Sorry, this is all we have.” The poor kid sounds so apologetic that Minho doesn’t have the heart to point out that the antiseptic probably expired before any of their lifetimes. It’s alcohol, at any rate, and will likely do the job just as well._

_Minho peels his shirt away from the wound as best as he can, gritting his teeth as he cleans it, only stopping when he realizes Felix is still looking at him with wide eyes. Minho blinks back at him surprised, before turning his chin to the side gently. “Don’t look.”_

_He doubts Felix listens, but he hurries through dressing the wound just in case. “Your leader is Bang Chan, isn’t it?”_

_Changbin almost hits the break, aborting the motion at the last second when Minho informs him that the sentients have taken a parallel road that could cut them off if he didn’t step on it._

_“You’re Lee Know.” This time, the admiration is apparent and Minho doesn’t know how to feel about it._

_“Lee Minho, actually,” he mumbles. “That’s not the point—take a left here, there’s a ramp to the freeway from here—ARMY knows their allies.”_

_“You’re ARMY?” Felix is wide eyed awe and an open sense of wonder that seems so out of place in this gritty desolation._

_Still, Minho can’t help but hope that he doesn’t lose that innocence. It’s rare these days, and the unique perspective could shed some light in the everlasting darkness that constantly plagues their days._

_“Was,” Minho corrects, thinking of his team. They weren’t particularly close—that was intentional, emotional connections to team members would only result in a longer recovery time after missions, and it was all too easy to get distracted that way. No one gave out names, for safety reasons, and it made everything all the more impersonal. “I don’t have a team anymore.”_

_“Sorry,” Changbin murmurs, voice softer than Minho thought possible of him. “You’re kind of a legend though, especially for other Sentinels.”_

_“Says the Stray Kid,” Minho counters, thanking Felix for the offered hoodie, covering his bandage and trading it for his torn and blood t-shirt. “You guys are the ones that are insane, the growth in just three months?”_

_Changbin screeches to a stop suddenly, in front of a suburban house. He gets out to do something to the driveway before the floor drops out from under them and the car rolls into an underground garage._

_“Not bad,” Minho appraises, holding the door open for Felix. Changbin winks at him, suddenly cocky now that he’s playing with a home court. He releases a lever that sends the driveway back up, locking over their heads._

_In front of them, a screen rises from the ground. In neon red letters:_

Stray Kids everywhere all around the world.

* * *

“Hyunjin and Felix took your spot.” Minho blinks, shaking his head. 

“What?” 

Changbin sits down next to him, squinting at where Minho had been facing earlier. “What are you even looking at, it’s four a.m.”

Minho stares at him. “Four?”

Changbin nods, holding up his phone. Minho winces at the brightness, shifting so that he’s leaning back against the patio banister, one leg stretched out in front of him and the other tucked to his chest. 

“Did you get any rest?”

Minho shrugs, hair falling over his eyes. “I might have fallen asleep, but honestly, I can’t even tell.” 

Changbin twists sideways so that he’s facing the elder a little more, leaning forward to tuck the hair to the side. “You said it was better.”  
  


Minho frowns. “It was. But the simulation reversed that, I guess.”

Changbin hums to show that he’s listening, but Minho goes quiet, staring straight ahead. Changbin stares back, watching as Minho rests his cheek on his knee, eyes bright but tired. “You okay?”

His eyes widen and he lifts his head, nodding at the younger. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He gives him a look, opening his mouth to bring up the facility, but Minho clamps a hand over his mouth before he can. Changbin blinks up at him through his lashes, confused.

“It’s not what you think it is,” Minho promises sincerely. “They didn’t do anything.”

“And we all just imagined those screams?”

Minho tilts his head, clasping his hinds around his knee. “What screams?”

Does he not remember? Perhaps that’s for the best. Changbin shakes his head. “Never mind that. What is it then?”

Minho blushes, ears and cheeks tinged pink as he laughs nervously, a tick he picked up from Felix and a response that’s become more natural as he’s grown more comfortable with them. “Ah, it’s just… It’s not a big deal, really.”

Changbin raises his eyebrows, leaning back against his hands. “It is if it’s keeping you up at night.”

Somehow, that doesn’t help. Minho’s flush deepens and he runs a hand through his hair, purposely letting it flop over his eyes and cover his face. “Don’t say it like that,” he whines. Changbin laughs lightly.

“Like what?” He grins when Minho just shakes his head, complaining into his knee. “Hyuuuung, like what?”

Minho glares at him, but it’s far from intimidating with his fluffy hair and flushed cheeks. He looks adorable, really. 

But Changbin isn’t sure if it’s his place to say that. 

“How did you get me out of the simulation?” Minho asks suddenly, cheeks still pink and refusing to meet the younger’s questioning gaze, but stubbornly determined.

“I don’t remember,” Changbin admits, fingers tapping the wooden planks under them lightly. “You zoned out though.”

Minho nods, like he expected that. “I know.”

They’re quiet, the silence between them a comfortable blanket against the cool night air. 

“Chan hyung agreed to talk to Felix,” Minho says, breaking the silence.

Changbin snorts, unwilling to believe it. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. I told him I would disembowel him if he didn’t, so, you know, he had to agree.”

Changbin laughs, almost falling off the patio at Minho’s deadpan tone. “You—of course you did. What did he say?”

“He’s just scared.” Minho sits up so that their shoulders are pressed together. “He really thought the rebellion would outlive him or something equally stupid.”

“Like we haven’t been the final wave of the rebellion.”

Minho snorts a laugh. “Fourth gen rebels.” He laughs. “Felix will be happy though.”

Changbin nods. “He’s happy enough just being by Chan hyung’s side.”

Minho giggles again, head falling to rest on Changbin’s shoulder, voice muffled by a yawn. “That’s what I said.” He latches onto Changbin’s arm, knocking both of them over. MInho sits up slightly to blink at the younger. “Why’d you fall over?”

Changbin stares at him incredulously. “I was leaning back against my hands, you knocked me over!”

Minho settles back down, nodding lethargically. “That makes sense.”

He’s quiet for a moment too long. Changbin cranes his neck, straining it as he tries to see Minho’s face. “Hyung, don’t fall asleep here!”

Minho mumbles something unintelligibly, rolling over so that he's practically on top of Changbin. The younger’s eyes widen, realizing what’s happening and pushing Minho off gently. He stands up, hauling Minho to his feet. “Hyung, if you’re going to fall asleep, then at least get comfortable. You rarely sleep, you should at least be comfortable when you do.”

“It's not by choice,” is what he thinks Minho says, but the elder’s voice is muffled where he’s pressed his face into Changbin’s shoulder, curling around his back effortlessly.

It’s slightly less effortless for Changbin to climb up the stairs with Minho on his back, but he manages, making it to the den before collapsing on the futon. The other rooms have already adjusted to the two of them not being there, with Felix and Hyunjin sprawled across the queen bed with no room for Minho, and Chan and Jisung comfortable in the other room. Seungmin and Jeongin have the room with the twin beds, which means they each get one to themselves and don’t have room to share.

The futon isn’t all that bad, but Minho’s weight pressing against his back makes it hard to breathe. Thankfully, the elder rolls slightly to the side, allowing Changbin to shift and face him. He squints sleepily, expression reminiscent of a cat and Changbin laughs fondly, poking his wrinkled nose. “Good night, Minho hyung.”

Minho scrunches his nose up again, manhandling Changbin into a position such that he can drape himself all over the younger’s back again, clinging to him like a miniature octopus. “Night, Changbinnie.”

The morning brings Jisung flopping onto them heavily enough that Changbin wakes up with a start, two seconds away from tossing the younger boy across the room for such a rude awakening. Minho is already awake, barely raising an eyebrow at Jisung or Changbin as he reviews information on a tablet, a protein shake in his free hand. 

He offers Changbin a sip when he catches the younger looking. Changbin takes it gratefully, sitting up. He feels oddly hungry, probably another side effect from the simulation, considering they all just slept. He glances at Minho before he takes a sip, not surprised to find the elder already looking at him. 

“So?” Jisung’s loud voice interrupts the moment, and Minho is already halfway out of the room before Jisung finishes his question. “What does it taste like?”

Changbin thinks of the faint taste of a ramen on his lips, a phantom taste from a meal he doesn’t remember having. 

_—asleep at the breakfast nook, a plate of heated food by his side—_

“It’s spicy,” he mutters, losing his appetite as he holds it out to Jisung. “It’s good; do you want it?”

“Spicy?” Jisung narrows his eyes at him. “If it’s so good, why are you giving it to me?”

Changbin shrugs. “‘M not hungry, I guess. It really is good, Jisung; do you want it or not?”

The younger takes the bottle, still eyeing him warily as he takes a sip. His eyes widen before narrowing accusingly at Changbin once more. “It’s not spicy! It tastes like mint chocolate, ugh, that’s disgusting, hyung!” 

Changbin frowns, not really paying attention to the younger’s complaints. “If you hate it that much, go give it back to Minho hyung; it’s his protein shake anyway.”

Jisung huffs, muttering something under his breath about how he’ll go do just that and that Changbin’s hair looks incredibly stupid in the morninng. Not that Changbin pays much attention to it, he’s still stuck on the taste of spiciness because he knows for a fact that they’ve been kept in this weird transcendent state where they haven’t eaten, and that the last meal he ate was leftovers from their usual frozen meals with Jeongin and Seungmin.

The microwave barely heats the food enough for it to have some taste, let alone be spicy enough that he can feel it.

The water is ice cold on his teeth as he rinses his mouth after brushing his teeth, grimacing at the sudden change in temperature.

Chan has the screen from yesterday out, and all of the others are eating breakfast. Minho stares at his protein shake like it holds the answers to questions he hasn’t even thought of yet, frowning at Jisung’s exaggerated chewing _—_ an attempt to get him to eat. He waves Changbin over when he sees him, poking a finger at Jisung cheek to get him to stop.

“What is it?” Changbin asks, sitting on the bench next to him. Minho shakes his head, silent as they turn to face Chan’s screen, resting his chin on Changbin’s shoulder.

“Feel like I’m forgetting something,” he admits quietly. “It’s probably nothing. Did Chan and Felix talk yet?”

“You didn’t think of asking Felix that?”

Minho pinches his side, ignoring the way he squirms in discomfort. “Of course I did, but if Chan hasn’t said anything to him yet, I don’t want to spoil it.”

“That’s… surprisingly considerate of you,” Changbin mumbles back. “Where was this same consideration when you told Hyunjin I had a crush on him?”

“In the same place it was when I told him I knew about his feelings for me,” Minho retorts easily. Changbin makes a face even though he knows the elder can’t see it. “Oh come on, don’t be like that. Both of you guys were super obvious and especially with Hyunjin, it wasn’t even anything more than admiration.”

“Like Felix was with you?”

Minho is suspiciously silent, digging his fingers into Changbin’s ribs. Changbin squirms, shoving his hand off. “Ow, hyung, no need to be so violent; everyone knows how much you and Felix care about each other, no need to try and kill your Guide over it.”

Minho snorts. “Don’t think too highly of yourself—I was doing just fine without a Guide too.”

That’s not an entire lie, given that Changbin still doesn’t know the full backstory about Minho’s time with ARMY working as an unbonded Sentinel, but he knows that there’s no way a Sentinel is better off without a Guide. It isn’t an extremely dependent relationship in any way, not really, it’s more of a mutually beneficial one. Granted, Guides do more for Sentinels than vice versa, but Changbin likes to think that he and Minho do about the same for each other.

“Yeah, right,” he says, a beat too late. Minho is already paying attention to Chan’s spiel about the three facilities and how there’s only one left.

If they can take the final compound and facility out, the Bureau stands no chance at retaining their hold on the government. Even the science division would be forced to concede.

“One last facility,” Seungmin murmurs quietly from the stool closest to Changbin. “It’s crazy to think that we’re almost free.”

Chanbgin can’t help but agree. This is a rebellion that’s taken four generations to come to such a close fight. To think that they are days away from reclaiming their country and taking greater steps to protect Sentinels _—_ well, that’s incredible.

Minho winds his arms around Changbin’s waist, leaning against him comfortably. “Free, huh.” It’s quiet, probably accidentally said out loud, but Changbin can’t help but turn around in his hold.

“You won’t have to hide anymore, hyung.” Minho smiles ruefully, though his eyes are still hopefully bright.

“Ah, that’s… “ He trails off, gazing dipping lower to his lips before flickering back up again. “It’s not so simple… I mean, I’m not even a registered Sentinel, I doubt things will be that easy.” Changbin frowns at him, opening his mouth to speak, but Minho presses a finger to his lips, shaking his head. “I’m not saying it’s impossible, Seo Changbin. I just don’t think it’s possible right now. It’ll take time, people have spent far too long believing that Sentinels are the greatest dangers they could face, and we are dangerous, yes, but most Sentinels aren’t even bonded.”

Minho doesn’t try to clarify that he’s the most dangerous—that’s something they all know and something he never forgets to beat himself up for, as if he played any role in that. It’s not like he could choose his genetics. 

Nor his parents.

Admittedly, all of them have something against Minho’s parents, even if they’ve never told him. There’s nothing normal about the way his parents treated him like a lab experiment and ran tests on him, but the worst is how they trained him so early on that his abilities as a Sentinel developed so early on.

Especially because if Minho manifested at around three years old, Changbin was barely two.

“Stop overthinking it,” Minho mutters, focused on Chan again. “It’s really not as serious as you’re making it out to be.”

It definitely is; Minho is always trying to downplay things that are related to him, but this is definitely huge.

For a lot of people, but Minho especially.

“Our last facility raid,” Jeongin muses from the bench on the other side of the table. “It feels a little surreal.”

Chan nods. “We’ve made it this far though, it feels right.” He opens his mouth to say something more, but the door falls open. 

All eight of them are immediately on their feet, Minho sleeping into the middle easily as Hyunjin and Seungmin stand in front, hiding him from view in case the Bureau has found them, the others hiding behind Minho in case someone else has found them.

Two figures stumble through the doorway, each confused by the other before they come into view.

BamBam is the first to speak, searching the room. “Chan?”

The second is the most prominent Sentinel and the second most powerful Sentinel, second only to Minho. 

V.

“We need your help.”

* * *

As it turns out, V and BamBam had arrived separately, with separate motivations that had turned out to have the same intention.

Well. Similar intentions.

Hyunjin looks over at where V is practically towering over Minho, despite the older Sentinel being close enough in height to Hyunjin for the difference to not actually be so significant. Minho doesn’t look small, per se, next to him, but he does look a bit frustrated.

On the other hand, BamBam and Chan were easily relieved to see each other and are now discussing strategy with Changbin and Jisung. Seungmin and Jeongin have joined them to help in any way that they can.

“You know why!” Minho’s voice is strained and louder than he usually lets it get, especially considering how he never raises his voice. He clears his throat, accidentally meeting Hyunjin’s eyes before turning back to V and repeating it quietly. “You know why.”

“Well, you’re not going to like what we found,” V returns, brow furrowed. He doesn’t seem mad, just frustrated.

Backed into a corner, Hyunjin realizes. It’s that same frustration that Hyunjin sees in Felix whenever Chan shoots down his feelings. 

He takes a discrete step closer, sitting down on the steps next to Felix. “It doesn’t sound good,” the younger one murmurs, leaning against the wall on the side. “V knows something.”

So it is as he suspected.

“Has he said anything yet?”

Felix shakes his head, blue hair brushing against the wall. “I think… that he wants Minho hyung to join them.”

“That makes no sense!” Hyunjin is quick to deny it. “He left ARMY, didn’t he?”

The younger shakes his head again. “Technically, no. He found his Guide, and he lost his group. If ARMY wasn’t so fond of him, he would’ve been labeled a deserter and persecuted.”

Once again, Hyunjin is reminded of exactly how little time Minho has spent with them, and how different they are. 

Not to mention how much the elder means to him. To all of them.

Hyunjin tries to peak over the banister, but Felix pulls him down before he can actually see anything. “Hey!”

“Just listen,” Felix hisses, lowering his voice.

“Just because you’re a Sentinel doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do,” Minho is saying. “I get that you have hierarchy when it comes to ARMY, but I left.”

Hyunjin and Felix exchange a look. Minho never said anything about that.

“There’s something you need to know.” A pause. Hyunjin leans forward in anticipation, almost toppling down the last three stairs in the process. “About your parents.”

Hyunjin can practically picture Minho’s frown as he asks, “My parents?”

“Minho, do you really think you manifested as a Sentinel normally?”

Felix frowns, nudging Hyunjin’s side. “What do you think he means, normally? Does he not know that Changbin hyung awoke the bond?”

Hyunjin presses forward slightly more, sitting at the edge of the step and shrugs. If Felix doesn’t know either, then there’s no way he knows better. 

“I know my Guide woke the bond,” Minho answers calmly, unphased. That’s good—it means that it’s probably nothing serious.

But, then again, it also means that V was either supposed to already know this or that it was casual enough information that it didn’t matter to Minho that he was sharing it so simply.

“Do you?”

Hyunjin whirls around to look at Felix, eyes wide in disbelief. “What does he mean?”

Felix shakes his head quickly, forcibly turning Hyunjin’s head back so that they’re both facing the banister between them, ears peeled to hear what comes next. 

Minho’s words come a little slower, still steady, but slightly hesitant. He’s unsure of where V is going with this—a sentiment Hyunjin and Felix share. “Of course I do. My parents were scientists; they couldn’t deny that ancient Sentinels had the ability to be woken by their Guides.”

A pause.

“Minho, what are you talking about?”

Hyunjin and Felix share a worried glance. Huh?

Minho continues, but it’s clear that V’s questions have gotten to him. His words are far from confident, quiet and unsure. “The old books? The ones about ancient Sentinels? I know I don’t remember them too well because they were lost in the fire, but I’m pretty sure that’s just history.”

V’s voice is hushed, sympathy dripping from his words. It likely feels condescending to Minho, but Hyunjin can tell that the elder is sincere. “Minho, your parents set that fire. There were never history books like that. They manufactured your memories; Jimin and I found you in a lab.”

What?

“A lab?” Hyunjin doesn’t think he’s ever heard Minho sound so small before, and he hates it. He wishes there was a way to protect his hyung from this, and from the way Felix is clinging to his hand, he knows the younger does too.

“Most Sentinels are Sentinels because of genetic mutations,” V continues quietly. “You were supposed to be a Sentinel too, a strong one, likely, but your parents didn’t think that was enough. They wanted to push Sentinels to their genetic limit, so they tampered with your DNA when your mom first got pregnant. 

“The tests weren’t harmful to her in any way, but there was only a nineteen percent chance of them succeeding, according to RM. You beat the odds, and you made it out and you survived. But on your eleventh birthday, your parents started noticing your body rejecting the suppressants they had been feeding you and that it was starting to develop side effects.

“They cut off the suppressants, but that brought back all of the memories of the experiments and tests they had run on you, so they fabricated memories—”

At this point, Hyunjin can hear the way Minho’s breathing is shakier, even with Felix cutting off the circulation in his hand. 

Chan and the others seem quieter too.

“—and they lit the lab on fire to cover their tracks, because as unorthodox as the science division is, the Bureau would have never approved their head scientists to take such a risk on themselves. They likely would have approved a fabricated embryo, but your parents insisted on taking the risk on their own—”

Hyunjin wants V to stop talking, but he’s frozen. He’s stuck in this endless loop of wanting to know more and wanting to protect Minho, and neither is winning out. 

“—and they left you in the lab, Minho.”

Felix is on his feet before Hyunjin can even react, leaping off the stairs and almost careening around the corner, stepping between a visibly shaken Minho and a pained V. “Haven’t you said enough? Do you really need to ruin what little good he had?”

Minho holds Felix’s arm tightly, face pressed into the back of his neck as he tries to calm down. Hyunjin slips behind him, rubbing circles into Minho’s back to help.

V’s lips part, and for the first time, Hyunjin notices that the elder’s eyes are teary. “Do you think it was easy for me?”

Felix isn’t having any of it, his voice rising. “I don’t care if it was easy for you, honestly. You still said it, and it makes no difference. That’s in the past and his parents are dead. They can’t hurt him anymore—and neither can you.”

“You’re wrong,” BamBam’s voice is noticeably hesitant as he stands up, pushing his chair away from the dining table. “They’re not dead.”

Well, that certainly doesn’t help Minho. 

Except— “I know.”

Felix turns slightly, fingers holding Minho’s arm in place. “What do you mean, you know?”

“Even if Taehyung hyung didn’t say it, there was a part between the simulation and when Changbin found me—I thought it was just a continuation of the simulation, but…” He turns back to V. “Those were my memories, right?”

V gives a pained nod. “I’m so sorry Minho. We were almost too late.”

Minho shakes his head. “It’s not your fault.”

Felix’s eyes widen. “It’s not your fault either, hyung.” Hyunjin nods, murmuring his agreement. He doesn’t even realize the others have joined them until Changbin is reaching out for Minho. 

Oddly enough, Minho doesn’t go to him. He’s still holding onto Felix, and he hasn’t moved out of Hyunjin’s hold either, but he’s focused on V.

“But none of that is why you’re here, is it?”

V shakes his head, wincing when Felix glares at him. “It’s not.”

Changbin crosses his arms, worried gaze still focused on Minho. “Why are you here, then?”

V presses his lips together, gaze darting from Felix to Changbin to Minho before settling on the white wall behind Hyunjin. “Those experiments were to reduce dependency,” he recites, words tired like he’s practiced trying to say them over and over. “To create a new race, separate from humans and their Sentinel mutants. To remove the need for Guides.”

“Did they succeed?” Jisung’s voice is quiet, but his stance implies the pain V will face if he tries to lie.

Not that the elder Sentinel has any reason to. 

Minho’s head snaps up, scoffing as he shakes his head. “What do you think?”

V looks away. 

Oh?

Hyunjin frowns, raising an eyebrow at Jeongin, who is standing between BamBam and Chan. Their youngest shakes his head, shrugging. Hyunjin turns to Seungmin, who stands next to Jisung.

_ I don’t know,  _ he mouths. Hyunjin sighs, pursing his lips and embracing Minho tighter. 

“Of course, they failed.” Minho laughs mirthlessly. “Why else would they light a fire in a lab with their  _ precious  _ experiment?”

V remains quiet, still unwilling to look at Minho as he shifts his weight between his feet. Minho falters at their silence, turning in Hyunjin’s hold to look at Chan, who looks back at him sheepishly.

“No,” Minho breathes, shaking his head. He repeats it again. “No. That’s not—you can’t seriously be suggesting that— I still have a Guide!”

Felix reaches backwards, turning so that he can press Minho’s hand against his chest. It isn’t as effective as when Changbin does it, but he’s clearly avoiding his Guide at the moment, so Felix will have to do.

Minho struggles to sync their heartbeats though, clearly barely focusing on Felix or the sync. Felix presses his hand harder, fingers wrapped around Minho’s wrist.

“Minho hyung,” he grits out. “Focus.”

Hyunjin gets what V is trying to say though. He thinks. He, at least, has a better understanding than Minho, but that’s meaningless considering that Minho is the one that’s going to have to deal with all of the repercussions and the emotional fallout of this.

“It’s not possible,” Minho repeats, voice cracking at the end.

Jeongin, Seungmin, Chan and Felix are quiet, and even BamBam, who had so boldly spoken up before doesn’t say anything. Hyunjin purses his lips, eyes on Changbin to see how the elder will react, but Changbin only has eyes for V now.

“What are you talking about?” His voice is low, a dark rumble with a clear threat. 

V shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “Ah… Do you really need me to say it?”

All nine of them turn to look at V. No one says anything, waiting expectantly.

V sighs, looking at Minho. “Do you want to hear it? You’re not going to like it.”

Minho scowls, pushing Felix’s hand away, but holding the boy close. “I haven’t liked any of this so far but that doesn’t mean I won’t hear you out. Even if I don’t believe it.”

Changbin raises an eyebrow, nodding coolly at V. “So?”

“Their experiments succeeded, of course. Why else would they try to destroy all the evidence?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in other news, i'm looking at two or three more chapters from here ? minbin have come so far, i'n so proud of them ;((
> 
> a lot goes down in this chapter though, what are y'all thinking ?
> 
> i love hearing from y'all so so much, seriously, i love reading all of your comments, so please let me know what you think in the comments down below ?


	12. [implode]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho rolls his eyes, tapping the ear piece to silence the other voices for a bit. “This is stupid.”
> 
> Changbin raises his eyebrows. “Oh, so now you’re going to talk to me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear i tried but *insert roshini's spiderman meme here* 

With their backs pressed flat against the familiar concrete, Changbin is almost overcome with a sense of deja vu. Had Felix been here too, it likely would have been overwhelmingly similar to how they first met Minho.

Except for the fact that Minho is ignoring them.

And by them, really, Changbin just means him, because Minho has had no problem discussing strategy with Chan and checking in on Seungmin and Jeongin to see how things are going in regards to the cameras. He hasn’t said much to Hyunjin, but he is civil enough, more than the two of them normally are, which is enough of a sign that something is wrong. 

But, while he hasn’t said anything to Felix and Jisung, he hasn’t gone out of his way to avoid being within five feet of them the way he has been with Changbin.

_“Coming up on your left side, hyung,”_ Jeongin’s voice comes through on his earpiece with little static.

Changbin raises his chin at Minho who pointedly looks away, pressing further into the wall as if he could just disappear into it.

That’s not how it works, _Minho._

“Heard them,” Minho mutters, “V?”

_“Your best bet is to aim for the nuclear reactor in the center,”_ the older Sentinel admits. _“That would put all in danger and would likely blow your covers too, so don’t do that.”_

Changbin doubts Minho actually listened to the warning, but considering that the elder _isn’t talking to him_ , he has no idea. 

“What about the control panel for the electric fence?” Changbin cuts in, ignoring Minho’s wide eyed stare. He can be stubborn too, the elder isn’t the only one that’s hard headed like this. “That would take the fence down and give us an actual distraction.”

_“That could work,”_ Seungmin admits on the other end of the line. _“Felix, Chan hyung, Hyunjin?”_

_“It makes sense, but Chan hyung and BamBam hyung won’t be able to slip past without them noticing,”_ Hyunjin points out. _“And since Felix I were the ones that distracted the guards at the other facility, there’s no way. And Changbin hyung and Minho hyung are both too obvious.”_

Minho rolls his eyes, tapping the ear piece to silence the other voices for a bit. “This is stupid.”

Changbin raises his eyebrows. “Oh, so now you’re going to talk to me?”

It’s like Minho doesn’t even hear him, what the heck? He doesn’t respond, blankly staring ahead. Changbin knows he isn’t zoning out, because, well, he’s his _Guide,_ but Minho is too quiet.

“Minho hyung?”

The elder blinks twice, shaking his head. He opens his mouth to speak but the shouts of the guards catch his attention first. He’s faster, aiming with his laser, eyes clearly pointing each one out. They’re out in a matter of seconds, before Changbin even has a chance to provide backup.

“Well,” the younger mutters. “There’s no way they don’t know we’re here now.” 

Minho shrugs, carelessly spinning the laser in his hands, balancing it on a finger. Changbin pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek before glaring at Minho, kicking a foot up against the cement wall behind him. “Are you really going to ignore me forever?”

Minho glances over at him and it’s… cold. “Maybe not forever,” the elder grits out, like it pains him to even talk to Changbin. “I just can’t do this right now.”

Changbin furrows his brow. “Look, if this is about what V said—”

“It is,” Minho cuts him off, before shaking his head. “It is but it’s not. I don’t want to talk about it’s—drop it, Changbin.”

Ouch. Changbin doesn’t think Minho was this cold to them when they first met, and for some reason, this stings more. Especially because he thought he and Minho were finally making some progress.

“Fine,” he concedes. “I won’t ask you about what happened with V, but don’t think I’m going to let you get away with ignoring me.”

Minho whirls around, stalking closer until they’re standing toe to toe. From here, Changbin can see the curl of his eyelashes, the perfect bridge of his nose, the tired dark circles under his eyes, and the way his hands tremble slightly as he pushes the younger back, palms splayed across his chest. Minho stares him down, eyes dark. 

“What makes you think you’re letting me do anything?” He murmurs, a smooth growl that sends shivers down Changbin’s spine. 

“I’m your Guide,” Changbin gets out, voice a lot more stable than he expects it to be. “I get a say in this too.”

That’s the wrong thing to say. Minho tilts his head at him, rolling his eyes condescendingly. “Don’t think too highly of yourself,” he reminds Changbin, a fact that the younger never fails to forget when it comes to Minho’s capabilities. He knows where this is coming from, but he can’t help but think Minho is taking what V told them a little too hard. A little too personally. “That’s a working relationship. Doesn’t make you my handler or anything like that.”

Changbin almost snorts, but the anger in Minho’s eyes has him wary enough to hold back the deprecating comment he has ready. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen the elder this angry before, and he’s watched Minho tear apart an army of androids just for bruising Felix.

Not that he can blame him for that, Changbin was just as angry, his skillset just happened to limit the kind of damage he could do at the time. He didn’t even know he was Minho’s Guide at the time, so he wasn’t even in the field. It had been just Minho, Felix and Hyunjin, and Minho was already upset enough that Hyunjin was injured. The android trying to get to Felix had been the final straw. 

“I never said that,” he tries to clarify, but Minho presses him back further, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to continue the sentiment. Changbin sighs, pressing his lips together, but resting his hands against the small of Minho’s back, waiting.

Minho exhales slowly, clearly leaning into his touch even if he tries to look like he isn’t. Changbin almost smirks, holding himself back to not give himself away as he trails a hand upward, the other snaking around to trace aimless patterns over where he knows that tattoos scrawl over the elder’s ribs under his shirt. 

Minho keens at this, practically melting into Changbin, hands trapped between their chests. “Changbin,” he murmurs, voice a little breathless.

And okay, maybe Changbin knows that this really isn’t the time for it, but maybe he just wants a chance to just be with Minho, to exist and not get into the politics of Sentinels and Guides or the nature of their already complicated platonic relationship, only further complicated by the mess that is their feelings. He knows it’s selfish, but really, when else will they have a chance to just exist together like this?

“Minho hyung,” Changbin breathes out equally quietly, pulling Minho even closer, his gaze falling onto his lips. It’s so far from the time for this that it could be laughable that he’s even considering it, but it’s _always_ been so enticing.

Minho leans in, foreheads falling together gently, pressed against each other. He exhales nervously, lips parted to say something, but before he can, Changbin is leaning upward, nearly pressing their lips together. 

“Can I?” He asks quietly.

Minho nods, breathing out shakily. “Yes, please,” he breathes out, lips still parted as Changbin presses their lips together softly, taking advantage of Minho’s already parted lips to deepen the kiss. 

Minho trails his hands upward, one wrapped around his shoulders, the other falling to his waist as Changbin tugs him closer, hand reaching upward to tug into his hair. Minho arches into that, pressing Changbin further back into the wall with careless steps, nearly stumbling over the concrete around them despite his usually immaculate senses. He drops his other hand to Changbin’s waist as well, pulling the younger even closer while still backing him into the wall. 

Changbin slides a hand under his shirt, pressing his fingers against the tattoo he remembers stenciling and inking out painstakingly, smirking into the kiss when Minho stifles a groan, pressing closer. 

_“Ahem.”_

They don’t pull away immediately, eyes fluttering open as Minho presses a gentle kiss to his lips, hair disheveled from where Changbin’s hands had been tugging at it.

He’s gorgeous.

And their timing couldn’t be worse.

_“While I’m glad to see Minho hyung has finally gotten his head out from wherever he had shoved it, hyung, you do know that this is an infiltration, right?”_

Minho snorts at Jisung’s words, still pressed against Changbin, his giggles pressed lightly into the younger’s lips. “Sorry,” he mutters unapologetically, hands trailing under Changbin’s shirt to tap against his ribs. “I can hear them and they’re all far enough now on your side, Hyunjin.”

_“Copy that,”_ the younger sends across the line. “ _BamBam hyung, Chan hyung; I know you guys can get across just fine, and so can Felix and I. Jisung, do you see anything on your side?”_

A negative confirmation from Jeongin has the other four slipping past the gates after Seungmin had carefully taken apart the electric fence’s connection to the electrical mainframe. 

_“Minho, you and Changbin need to get into the main facility.”_ Minho jumps at V’s voice, pulling away slightly from Changbin, but the younger won’t let him. They’re in this together, apart from being his Guide and being a little in love with each other even if they both know that the timing isn’t right for that, they are friends. And that means not leaving each other behind.

“What’s in the main facility?” Changbin all but demands, hands holding Minho’s own on his waist in place.

_“Minho…”_

Minho tenses up, struggling to get out from Changbin’s hold, but not really using his strength, because Changbin knows he could get out easily if he actually tried. “I know,” he mutters before clicking the earpiece off and shoving it in his pocket. “I know,” he repeats to himself.

Changbin lifts a hand to his jaw, cupping his cheek and turning Minho’s head back so he can meet his eyes. “Hyung, you okay?”

Minho’s eyes are glassy, and he blinks twice to clear them, but Changbin knows that whatever he says next will be a lie. “Yeah, I’m fine,” the elder mutters quietly, closing his eyes tightly. 

Changbin isn’t having it, thumb pressing against Minho’s lips. “Minho hyung.”

The elder’s eyes widen even as he nips the tip of his thumb. Changbin fakes an expression of pain, but doesn’t pull away. Minho musters up a smile that looks just as painful to fake as it is to see, shaking his head. “It’s fine,” he repeats. “The footage from the night of the fire should be in the main facility.”

Changbin runs a hand up and down his back, the other one still cupping his jaw. “I thought you didn’t remember anything from that night.”

Minho shakes his head. “I didn’t. But… it started coming back. After the simulation.”

He blushes, pink painting over his cheeks prettily, just as he did the last time he mentioned the simulation. Changbin opens his mouth to ask—he knows he’s missing something, at this point, but he doesn’t know what—but Minho leans forward to kiss him before he can ask and that’s—

Well, that’s amazing, really.

Minho tastes like that mint chocolate shake he likes so much, and Changbin thinks he wouldn’t mind the taste at all if it felt like this. 

He only manages to remember that he had a question—though the specifics of the question are far from his mind at this point—that was important enough to actually ask instead of doing this when Minho trails down to his jaw, skin hot where they’re touching.

“Mm, hyung, wait,” he murmurs, leaning back slightly.

Minho leans back too, blinking back at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Everything okay?”

“You can’t just kiss me to not answer the question,” the younger points out, though he’s as flushed as Minho at this point. 

Thankfully, Minho doesn’t seem upset with him. He only pouts at Changbin, and oh, it’s hard to look away from that. “It felt good though. You taste good.”

_He tastes good?!_

Minho giggles at this, shaking his head and pressing a kiss to his lips, one that leaves Changbin wondering if he’s even standing anymore. “I’m not. It’s nothing to worry about, really.” His expression sobers up, and it’s a pity really, that the mischievous spark in his eyes and his carefree giggles are so quickly lost to the somber situation. “I’ll tell you about it someday, if you still want to hear it. We need to focus on getting to the main facility.”

Right.

And just like that, reality comes crashing down, unforgiving as it has always been when it comes to their happiness.

_Right._

_“Glad to see that you’re still able to focus,”_ Jisung’s sarcasm comes through clearly. Minho snorts, waving his faux concern off. _“Fortunately, you’re a Sentinel, so that means you’ll be able to get through there fast enough, so I guess there’s more time for smooching_ —”

“Get to the point, Jisung,” they both say at the same time, sharing a look with a slightly fond smirk.

_“Geez, no love for me, huh? Fine, fine, I get it. From what I can see here, your path is clear,_ but _you’ll have to break stuff to get there, so that probably will draw other people’s attention, which, you know, you just do your Sentinel thing and it’ll be fine.”_

_“How eloquently said,”_ someone mutters from the other side of the line.

Changbin snorts. Jisung is just trying to keep things light, it’s not like anyone can blame him. He looks up at Minho, who nods, clicking his ear piece back on and setting it in his ear with a slight frown. He normally hates to use the device because he can hear Changbin’s just fine—and given how closely they work with each other, their proximity is always enough—but it’s just a precaution, and more for the others’ peace of mind than the actual function of the device.

They slip over the fence, avoiding the barbed wire at the top of the compound with help from the thick soles of their boots. 

The air around them shifts, a sterile stale mist that settles over the compound. Changbin pulls his mask higher, nudging Minho so that the elder can do the same, since he’s probably even more affected by it with his heightened senses. 

The first android to come for them is thrown across the room without a second thought. It’s like a switch is flipped as Minho responds instinctively to their threats, dodging and tugging Changbin down before the thought even crosses his mind.

Gone are the dusty concrete towers from the edge of the compound. As they reach the center, they’re surrounded by pristine white walls, each one too carefully kept up with to not have to do with the science division.

Changbin makes a point to spray red paint over all of them. Let the Bureau know the rebellion hates them, maybe then they’ll finally make the news.

The second android is better built, but really, when is a machine a match for a Sentinel? Let alone one the likes of Lee Minho, the strongest Sentinel—and person—in the Bureaucratic state. 

Please, like they ever stood a chance.

Now that they know they’ve entered a science division stronghold though, it’s clear that security will be congregated wherever their experiments are. They won’t have to fight their way in, really, people fear Sentinels far too much to not back down. And Minho’s made quite the name for himself as Lee Know—the science division would be stupid to not capitulate.

Changbin flanks Minho, watching his back as he always has, taser at eye level in case anyone does rush them from behind. He admittedly isn’t the best shot—Chan and Felix could tie for that, Sentinels notwithstanding with their enhanced vision—but he’s good enough to keep any humans that might come after them behind. The androids are trickier, only certain places deliver a total electrical overload that shuts them down.

The white hallways are empty, and vaguely reminiscent of those from the JYPCorp warehouse in the simulation. Just stronger patterns and sharper corners. 

Minho doesn’t bother with stealth anymore. He’s brash in his attacks, and confident in his victories. He’s merciless against the androids, tossing them aside like feathers, storming past them relentlessly. 

Changbin follows close behind, shorting out the cameras behind them, confident in Jisung’s ability to get them back up again, if necessary.

The main facility presents a glass atrium that Minho scoffs at, shaking his head as he walks right through the doors, not even flinching at the sirens that wailed in their ears the minute he stomped over their sensors. Changbin smirks, watching him running a hand through his hair as Minho marches up to the receptionist. “Your main, where is it?”

The man cowers, pointing to the right with a trembling hand. Minho rolls his eyes, staring at the man. “And if it isn’t?”

The man shakes his head, breaking down and sobbing, cursing Sentinels in the same breath.

Well. We can’t have that now, can we?

Changbin leans over before Minho can, pressing the taser under his chin, lifting his head back up. “Did you have any other incredibly disrespectful nonsense to spew or were you going to lead the way?”

Minho snorts next to him, blinking innocently at the man. Changbin knows Minho couldn’t care less about the man in front of them, all of the science division clones are stupid enough to fear anything from the ordinary. 

Just like he knows this man is an identical duplicate of the Bureau’s brainchild and Minho’s father himself.

“Leave him,” Minho instructs. “I remember enough to know my father uploaded his memories and erased them before he would let anyone touch his DNA.”

Huh, so Minho knows too?

Not that that’s a bad thing, Changbin really had no idea how much Minho had remembered in the past few days after V had revealed the truth/

“Besides, clones aren’t capable of thinking for themselves,” Minho adds, echoing Jeongin’s words in their ears. “This one is just as useless as wherever that shell of my father is right now.”

That doesn’t instill much confidence in the clone. Not that it should—neither of them are particularly interested in being merciless when it comes to protecting these clones. They shouldn’t even _exist._

“That’s pathetic,” Changbin mutters, dropping his taser and leaving the clone to scramble for the emergency button. Not that it’s going to work, Seungmin and Jeongin had already knocked out the power grid that corresponds to the facility. Jisung tells them that the city looks ten times brighter now that the power isn’t being rerouted to the labs.

Serves the Bureau right.

Changbin swipes a tablet from the receptionist’s desk, leading the way through the maze of hallways until they reach the center of the glass honeycomb.

The hive mind of the Bureaucratic Science Division, and the very last creation by Minho’s parents, before they disappeared from the general public’s—and the rebellion’s—radar.

A glass spiral with a wide base made up of hexagonal panels encoded with the creator’s DNA. The same genetic code that runs through Minho’s cells; even if it is modified, it’s good enough to access the files.

Truth be told, Changbin wants to shelter Minho from this. He’s been through enough, really, he shouldn’t have to go through this too. 

Oddly enough, Minho is quiet, simply looking around and taking it all in. He doesn’t say anything for forty four seconds—Changbin counts—and when he does, it takes him another nineteen to properly say the first word. It’s a bit anticlimactic that all he does is ask Jisung what they’re looking for, carefully paying attention to Seungmin and Jeongin’s instructions as to how to find the right panel.

Halfway through removing it, Minho freezes. “Someone’s coming,” he breathes, dumping the half freed panel in Changbin’s hand. “I’ll take care of them, you get this out, okay?”

Changbin nods, despite being uncomfortable with having his back turned to the situation. He tries his best to hurry through removing the panel as safely as he can, guided by Jeongin and Seungmin’s meticulous instruction. Minho lurks by the door, reporting what he can hear and staying on alert in case anyone decides to interrupt them. 

It ends up not being what they suspect it to be. Rather than being interrupted by a clone or an actual worker, a hologram crackles to life in the center of the cone, the door by Minho sealing shut faster than even he can stop it. 

A hologram of a man and a woman. Minho’s parents.

_“Minho.”_

Changbin watches Minho carefully, slipping the panel in his pocket. He knows it isn’t his place to speak, but he has no qualms about stepping in if his parents even so much as try anything.

Admittedly, this isn’t what he expected when V said that they were still alive, just not quite as they should be, but in retrospect, it does make sense. What else would two genius scientists do, when they had moved beyond the realms of biology and the limits of the human body? They wound unbind themselves from those constraints, turning to that which would set them free—technology.

“What do you want?” Changbin doesn’t think he’s heard Minho’s voice sound this cold before. Each word is an icicle in the already cold room, piercing through the panels. Changbin steps closer, just in case, still out of ‘sight’ of the holographic scientists. He assumes. There’s just as much of a chance that the scientists know that he’s there, but if he can provide Minho comfort and back up at the same time, he’ll risk it. 

_“You aren’t surprised,”_ his mother muses. Minho scoffs, rolling his eyes at the flickering cyan imitations of his parents in front of him, gaze flicking around the glass room before settling somewhere next to Changbin. It’s still close enough to look like he’s actually paying attention to his parents, but Changbin knows better. 

He raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “And should I be?”

_“So, you remember?”_ Changbin’s patience is beginning to run out. For the supposed brainchildren of the Bureau, these two feel awfully slow to him. Where’s the rampaging intellect and insane asininity that they were known for?

“Remember that you planted memories in my head so I would forget how hard you tried to enhance the Sentinel genes in me? Remember how you lied to me about the nature of Sentinels in those memories so I would think that I was _special_?” That last word is dripping in hatred, pure and unfiltered, a biting weapon that he spits back at them mercilessly.

Changbin is impressed.

(And a little turned on, but listen, _we don’t talk about that._ It’s already embarrassing enough that he’s thinking about it, let alone mentioning it. He just admires Minho’s strength and how relentless he is, _that’s all there is to it._ )

_“I see you still resort to unreliable resources to get your information. What else did that_ Sentinel _tell you?”_

Minho falters. It’s slight enough that Changbin hopes his parents don’t notice, but when his parents are out there spitting out the word Sentinel, a crucial part of their son’s identity that they only further exacerbated, like it’s a fate worse than death, he can’t blame Minho for freezing slightly. 

Changbin almost takes a step forward, but Minho shakes his head, gaze still trained just slightly off of where his hologram father is, meaning that it’s meant for Changbin. “The truth, apparently. You’re the ones that wanted me dead, do you really think I wouldn’t be interested in finding out the truth? All of my memories were fabricated, and you—well, what did either of you do?”

_“Have some respect for your parents_ —”

Minho scoffs, wet and harsh. “Respect? Where was the respect when you tied me up and knocked unconscious and left me to burn? Where was the respect when V came to rescue me because the rebellion cared more about their enemy’s son than his own parents did?”

His parents don’t even bother to deny the accusations. Changbin can see Minho slipping, his fingers trembling as he curls them into a fist. He wants to be there, but he can’t—he’s keeping Minho safe by not putting himself in danger. 

But that isn’t all he can do. 

_“And why do you think they cared? You’re experimental, Minho. A failed prototype, really. The fire did what it needed to, and nothing you remember matters. Our enemies only wished they could replicate our successes, but well, you were never one of them.”_

Changbin grits his teeth, sidestepping around the pedestal carefully. He doesn’t care if these are Minho’s parents, as far as he’s concerned, they’re monsters and being killed by their own technology only seems fair. 

Minho’s eyes widen before narrowing, snapping away from his emotions. He’s two seconds away from zoning out; Changbin knows, but he needs to hold on just a little longer. He bites down on the panel, holding it carefully as he unscrews the second panel while he listens to make sure Minho is doing okay.

“You said it yourself, what could they learn from a failure?” Minho’s laugh is heartbreakingly bitter, and the panel almost slips from his teeth. He curses mentally, pocketing both of them once he’s done. 

_“Yes, but they would expect you to know something of the success, wouldn’t they? Fortunately, we saw ahead and made sure those memories would be long gone. It doesn’t hurt to tell you now, I suppose, but yes. There was a success. A Sentinel fully capable and independent, unlike you, and they were, well, a masterpiece really.”_ Their cyan disembodied figures flicker, as do the lights in the room.

Jeongin warns of an uncontrollable electrical surge that is somehow connected to Minho in ways that no one in that room could even explain. Changbin thinks he gets it—the main point is that they need to get out of there, anyway. 

_“Unfortunately, a rebellion scientist infiltrated our lab_ — _or they defected after being a part of our team—it doesn’t matter. We had them eliminated, but it was too late to move our success. Our consciousnesses had already been uploaded, so we launched ourselves. Live, into the world. And everything fell into place from there. Really, you were a mistake we shouldn’t have spent so much time on, but you certainly helped your sister develop into perfection. Your DNA and your blood helped immensely, though you yourself were of no use—”_

Changbin yanks a single wire out, acutely aware of the room shaking around them. He grabs Minho’s hand and yanks him out of the room, other hand clutching the two glass panels tightly. 

He knows it’s bad when Minho doesn’t even fight him to go back and listen.

The truth is, there’s plenty to learn from the two scientists, but all of it is full of painful truths that wouldn’t further anything they have all worked so hard for. 

The floor continues to tremble under their feet, even when it transitions from the glass of the main facility to the white hallways floors.

And yet, they still can’t escape.

_“—a pity it ended in disaster with her too, but that was an unfortunate loss. The blueprint is still secure, complete with everything we learned from your mistakes. We knew you would come here, Minho. No matter that you brought that_ Guide _with you, there’s no fixing you, but you can still carry on our legacy.”_

Minho grits his teeth, stopping suddenly. “Go ahead.”

Changbin’s jaw drops open, staring at the elder incredulously. This is stupid, they shouldn’t be stopping in the hallway like this, not when the building looks like it could collapse at any minute. “Hyung, _no._ ”

Minho shoves him forward, subconsciously using his strength without realizing it. Changbin hits the wall hard, out of breath from the impact. Minho stares back at him in horror, eyes shining wetly. He leans back when Changbin reaches for him. “Go!”

Changbin scoffs, grabbing Minho’s waist and pulling him forward. “You’re not doing this, Minho hyung.”

“I could have hurt you,” Minho whispers, terrified, shaking nearly as much as the floor beneath them. He runs his hands all over Changbin, feeling to make sure the younger is okay. “Changbin, I could have killed you.”

“You could never,” Changbin murmurs, leaning forward, focusing on the physical contact he knows helps center Minho. “Are you going to freak out if I kiss you?”

Minho jerks backward, still in his arms, blinking at Changbin. He looks innocently lost like this, but Changbin can already see him slipping. He normally zones out when it comes to his hearing, but the younger can tell he’s struggling to maintain his hold on reality and the somatosensorial. Minho shakes his head. “No, I’m not—I’m fine.”

Changbin raises an eyebrow, stepping backward down the hallway and drawing Minho with him. “So, I shouldn’t kiss you?” He takes another step backward, slowly coaxing Minho with him. They can both hear the drone of the holographic scientists, but Changbin focuses harder on the physical contact, slipping his hands under Minho’s shirt and reveling in the elder’s soft gasp.

“You can, but we should—we shouldn’t,” Minho’s breath hitches as Changbin pulls him further down the hallway, hands running up and down his sides, fingers brushing over the small of his back and his abs. 

Changbin smiles, amused. “I don’t know if that’s a yes or a no, hyung,” he muses lightly, hands still playfully roaming under his shirt as Minho’s own settle in his hair at the nape of his neck. “Consent, remember?”

Minho all but growls, frustrated and pulls Changbin nose to nose. “It’s a yes,” he bites out, before slotting their lips together. 

It’s messy and fierce and a little bit too much for the ashen white hallways of a scientific facility, but they don’t care. Minho is warm and practically melts into Changbin, easily leading the kiss with each tilt of his head and press of his lips.

Changbin doesn’t let it last too long though, despite what he really wants to do, only until he’s sure that they’re synced and Minho isn’t in danger of zoning out.

Minho’s still a bit blissed out from the sensory reprieve, so Changbin takes advantage of that, dragging the elder out of the building and the compound, running into Felix and Hyunjin’s team on their way out. 

BamBam and Chan are already waiting in the van, the eldest having already started the car. The youngest stumble into the middle seat, leaving the back for Minho and Changbin.

Chan twists around in the front passenger seat, looking up from his tablet. “Did you guys get it?”

Changbin tosses the two glass panels to him, and their leader holds them up to the light, watching them glint at a certain angle. 

The code sparkles back down at them as BamBam floors it, driving away from the compound, the faint smell of smoke rising from their tires.

In the distance, flames engulf the concrete, racing towards the glass spiraling center.

Minho’s parents were right: it would only end in disaster.

* * *

  
  


It’s hardly as bad as Minho knows Changbin is taking it. Yes, his parents were harsh, and yes, their words hurt, but really, he grew up with fabricated memories of them and his childhood, which was apparently actually filled with a cold sense of detachment and experimentality. And on top of that, the detachment clearly bled over to their fabrications, and his parents really just killed themselves off too early in his memories for him to really remember them.

Even with them bleeding together the way they are now, he can’t say with complete confidence that he misses them, or really feels anything for them.

In fact, his biggest worry might be Changbin, more than the technological remains of his parents.

Changbin, who has been by his side through this entire mess. 

Changbin, who has been there for him when no one else has.

Changbin, his Guide.

Changbin, who he just made out with three or so times.

But most importantly, Changbin, one of his best friends.

“It feels anticlimactic, doesn’t it?” Minho hums, leaning comfortably against the younger’s torso, turning slightly onto his side to actually look at him rather than the sky. 

Changbin looks down, meeting his eyes as he continues to play with his hair. “What do you mean?”

“The facilities, the compounds, the rebellion,” Minho murmurs, closing his eyes and pressing a kiss into Changbin’s palm when the younger’s hand brushes the hair from it. “Doesn’t really feel real.”

Changbin makes a strangled sound. Minho blinks open an eye to find him staring back at the elder, wide eyed and pink cheeked. 

Cute.

“I guess not,” Changbin admits when he can finally speak, though it does sound a bit strangled. Minho hides a smirk.

Under the cool evening air, it’s easy to admit things they have avoided talking about. Blue hour makes them a little braver, maybe.

Minho sits up, having to hide his smirk again as he straddles the younger, draping his arms over his shoulders and settling his own hands around the younger’s waist. Changbin blinks back at him.

It’s almost like their roles are reversed from earlier this evening—Changbin has always been more easily flustered between the two. Minho thinks he understands what the younger means now.

He thinks he likes both.

“V and the rest of BTS is going to speak at the State tomorrow,” Minho mutters aimlessly, poking Changbin’s side. “Chan hyung says BamBam and the rest of GOT7 will be there too.”

Changbin raises his eyebrows, tugging on Minho’s overgrown hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re not going.”

Oh? “That’s not what—I didn’t even want to go,” the elder admits, stretching his legs out. “My being there would really only cause more harm than good. I’m glad V is going though. He and JK are the perfect example of how Sentinels and Guides can benefit society.”

“And we don’t?”

Minho sighs, leaning forward to rest his chin on the younger’s shoulder, closing his eyes and breathing in the cool air. “We’re not a good example of it. I’m an experiment, and a failed one at that. The people would be even less likely to actually trust anything coming from me than any other Sentinel. We’re also the most inexperienced, Binnie; we’ve only been bonded for six-ish months now. V and JK have been doing this for years.”

Changbin shrugs, shuffling their arms around so he can hug the elder around his torso instead. “We do work pretty well together, though.”

Minho presses a laugh into the juncture between his neck and shoulder, pressing a faint kiss against the skin. “ Of course we do.”

They still have a lot to talk about, but for now, Minho thinks he might just want to live in the moment. The future—however uncertain he knows it’ll be; and this he knows with certainty—is theirs again, and that means that time will finally be on their side. 

Something shifts in the air, and Minho pulls back slightly, curling his legs around Changbin’s back as he leans closer. “May I?”

Changbin grins at him, bright and youthful, as he bursts into laughter, curving in towards Minho. “Yeah,” he giggles out.

Under the fading tapestry of a rare sunset not clouded by the fog of an unjust regime is a different kind of light, the kind that thrives in darkness and daytime alike. A kind of pink that settles into your heart and slowly unravels the pain that burns inside.

It’s too early for them to say it, but they know, and that’s all that matters.

Minho kisses Changbin. Or perhaps, Changbin kisses Minho. But in the end, isn’t it the same thing?

Minho pulls himself forward eagerly, tilting his head to appease the angle. Changbin’s hands settle at the small of his back, pressing them closer together with each kiss. 

It’s all too easy to get swept up in it, the back and forth, and before he knows it, he’s pulling Changbin up to his feet and dragging him up to the bedrooms upstairs. The timing isn’t ideal for anything further, not that he plans on that, but it’s enough space for them to press into each other and lazily kiss, trading unspoken promises and quiet giggles.

The sunset has faded into a familiar nothingness when Changbin finally pulls away, pressing a soft close mouthed kiss against Minho’s lips as he looks down at him, hands playing with his hair as they always do.

“Missed you, Minho,” Changbin murmurs quietly, settling on top of Minho and snuggling closer, pressing kisses into his neck. 

Minho smiles, turning so that they’re on their sides and facing each other instead. It feels more intimate like this somehow, rather than a couple of minutes ago when they had their tongues down each other’s throats and hands shoved up each other’s shirts. 

And when his breathing evens out, Minho kisses his cheekbone gently, hand stroking the younger’s hair as Changbin sleeps curled up against his side. “Love you too, Changbinnie.”

* * *

  
Minho ends up falling asleep at some point—Changbin thinks that the emotional exhaustion of the previous day finally caught up to him at some point in the night, but he's really just glad that Minho is getting some rest. For the past six months—and this is just with Stray Kids, not taking into account his work as ARMY—he's been wearing himself out just to make the State safer for all of them, even if most in the State would condemn him.

It's frustrating, but he thinks he gets why Minho has been able to keep going. 

Felix, curled up on Minho's stomach is another reminder.

He lets them be as he heads downstairs, grabbing a frozen coffee from the freezer and shaking it as he joins Jisung and Chan in the living room. The broadcast has already started, but neither BTS nor GOT7 have spoken yet, and thankfully, that means he hasn't missed much. He remembers that GOT7 would be doing the introduction, since they were the ones who handled most of the behind the scenes work and the information peddling while BTS and ARMY handled the field work and actively undermined the Bureau.

He also knows that none of this would have been possible without Chan and his determination to put together the perfect team to complete the rebellion, and there's something satisfying about being the rebellion's secret weapon, even if they won't ever be recognized for it.

It's their little secret, after all.

"Where's Minho hyung?" Jisung asks immediately, round eyes wide with worry. Changbin smiles softly at the younger, ruffling his hair and flopping down on the sofa next to him, tugging him into a hug.

"He's fine," Changbin answers, shaking the coffee a little and offering both Chan and Jisung some. "He's sleeping with Yongbokkie."

Jisung relaxes in his hold at that, happy to be cuddling and comfortable. Jeongin shuffles out of the room sleepily, slumping against Chan's side with his eyes closed as their eldest combs through their youngest's bedhead. 

The broadcast on the screen in front of them flickers as Minho walks in with Felix still hugging him from behind. He sits down by Changbin's feet, leaning his head back against his legs as Felix gets comfortable in Minho's lap. Hyunjin and Seungmin are the last to join them, the former lying down with his head in Felix's lap and his legs in Seungmin's just as seven familiar men walk onstage.

_"Are there any Sentinels out there? I'd just like to thank you—"_

Changbin glances down at Minho only to find the elder already looking up at him. He leans down to press a quick kiss to his forehead, lips parting slightly when he pulls away and finds Minho staring up at him, eyes sparkly and smile blindingly bright. He doesn't miss the teasing from the others though, and even though the others won't stop laughing and teasing them, he can't help but join in. Even if he's a little embarrassed.

They settle down as the Bureaucrats take the stage, flanked by the two leaders of the rebellion on either side. 

They’re watching history in the making, and that’s breathtaking on it’s own, but knowing that Minho and so many other Sentinels will no longer be hunted is the greatest part of it all. Felix and Hyunjin end up getting to hug their Sentinel first, clinging to Minho and jumping up and down. 

Jisung shoves his way through, practically strangling his best friend in a chokehold as they both burst into surprisingly emotional laughter, holding each other close. 

Changbin smiles fondly, looking over and sharing a glance with Chan. They have all watched Minho open up, but he knows that none of it would have been possible if it weren’t for Jisung. Their relationship isn’t something to be put into words, and watching them right now almost makes him a bit emotional. Felix and Hyunjin are already tearing up, and even Seungmin’s eyes look suspiciously wet.

Seungmin squeezes his forearm, the two of them never much for hugs between each other, but only they can understand how much they care about each other. Jeongin starts crying when he hugs Minho, who tries his best to comfort their youngest, caressing his hair and telling him that’s it’s going to be okay and oh—

It actually is.

Chan hugs Minho next, and that’s when he finally breaks down, clinging to their leader as he cries, laughing the entire time. Next to them, Hyunjin is beside himself in tears.

And then it’s his turn, but before he can even move, Minho is pulling him close and resting his forehead against his. The world goes quiet, even if he knows that his friends are the loudest people in the world, for a moment, it’s just the two of them.

“Can I kiss you?”

The world is slightly louder, if only for Jisung whooping through his tears. Minho is blushing, eyes still teary. Changbin reaches up to run his thumbs over his cheeks, brushing them off gently, Minho’s eyes fluttering closed as his fingers run over the gentle skin under his eyes. 

“Always.”

He knows it's far from over and that things are no where near where they need to be for Minho—or any Sentinel really—to flaunt their identity, but this is quite possibly the biggest step that needs to be taken in order to bring down all of the unfair legislation.

And with Minho's smile pressed against his lips, he knows he would do anything to keep it there.

The broadcast ends quietly, fading into the background, just as it had started.

How poetic, for the Bureau to disappear as quietly as it had appeared. And for it to really be gone, well, that's music to his ears.

The next few weeks are somehow their busiest. They manage to move out from the suburbs to a small house built cliffside in the forests. Jeongin and Seungmin continue to work with GOT7 to promote rehabilitation centers for Sentinels, and though they encourage Minho to see if there’s a chance something there can help him, he never goes. 

Not that you can blame him, of course. Just think about what he’s been through, from his parents experimenting on him to abandoning him, to facing the Bureau head on.

(It helps that he isn’t alone though.)

He ends up going deeper underground instead, using all three networks’ best resources to reach out to Sentinels, trying his best to draw them out and bring them to the rehabilitation centers as often as he could. 

Felix often joins him, and even Hyunjin and Changbin tag along if it’s a rescue mission, for Hyunjin, and if it’s particularly strenuous, for Changbin. 

Chan and Felix end up talking things out, and that's where the Jeongin and Hyunjin find them one day, making out in the pool. As much as they complain about the PDA, all of their friends are happy for the two of them. Minho ends up threatening Chan again when he finds out, and Felix flushes brightly, his freckles prominent against his pink cheeks as he buries his face into Minho's side, but the thought is heartwarming. Chan has no intentions to hurt Felix anyway—Minho has nothing to worry about.

Hyunjin takes on their role of medic, helping immediately with first aid on rescue missions. He tries to make it clear that Minho is his first priority, since he’s the only one who actually understands Minho’s DNA enough to treat him safely, while any Sentinel trained medic could treat the others, but Minho is too selfless and stubborn to listen. 

Chan, Changbin, and Jisung find themselves busier than ever, expanding their networks to account for the sudden burst in underground organizations. It seems like every hour, a new group pops up on their radar. 

It takes them three months to really settle into their new lives.

Standing somewhere by the window, Minho senses Changbin the second the heartbeats in the room shift. He’s gotten better at this, but Changbin will always be the easiest, followed closely by Felix, of course.

“Hey, you’re back early,” Changbin comments, coming to stand next to him. Minho nods, running a hand through his hair.

Changbin likes it best like this, the outgrown, wavy, silver mess that it is. Minho only teases him that he has a thing for his hair—which, he technically does, even if he would never admit it—but really, it’s Minho that he loves the most.

“Yeah, Hyunjin wanted to run some tests to see if there was anything that caused my hair to change color when we bonded,” the elder admits. “Taehyung hyung and Jungkook hyung never had anything like that happen to them.”

Changbin hums, leaning closer to hug him from behind, pressing a kiss into the nape of his neck. “Did he find anything?”

“He’s still looking.”

Out here, with a clear view of the neon cyberscape only separated by the water between them, everything feels more permanent, though the view is reminiscent of the simulation. Jisung sometimes hacks the State’s radios to play that retro synth music he likes so much, blasting it and dragging whoever he can to dance with him, typically Felix and Minho, though he does try his best to convince Jeongin. Hyunjin makes a mock face of disgust from the corner, though he’s bopping his head to the beat too, and sooner than later, Minho and Felix have pulled him in.

“Channie hyung, come on!” Minho giggles, a hand wrapped around Changbin’s wrist and the other around their leader’s, tugging them both out of the room. He sounds tipsy, but really, that’s just the happiness.

Even Seungmin joins in, and though Jeongin resists Jisung’s puckered lips, the threat of Jisung  _ actually  _ kissing him has their youngest joining them too, shouting the lyrics to a song about a bright future with a blueprint fabricated of their own will, whispers of despair that won’t work on them anymore. It’s more tropical than the usual vaporwave synth, but it’s the right kind of bright.

Drunk on happiness, they look forward to the future.

_나의 내일은 파래._

( my future is bright )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried, okay? romance is hard ;( please please please give me feedback on how i can improve, i really have no idea what i'm doing when it comes to kissing/making out/romance in general ! life is. hard.
> 
> i hope you guys like this though !! i do apologize - it's a bit shorter than i intended for it to be, but! no worries, the upcoming hyunho spy fic will be longer, i promise. and it actually has a plan, so it might make sense this time around haha... 
> 
> as for our dystopian cyberpunk fusion universe, there's still plenty to come, in terms of the world and accepting sentinels, and the rebellion might be over, but the government will be working towards making society civil once more. and, of course, stray kids will be leading this new wave.
> 
> as for minbin and chanlix and the others... well, 나의 내일은 파래, right?
> 
> here's my contribution to the minbin tag, now completed !!
> 
> thank you all for taking the time to read this and making this journey with me, really, i adore you all ! a special thank you to gaokat for inspiring me write minbin, and roshini for being the most supportive friend a writer could ask for, there's no way i would have finished this without you !!
> 
> i hope your day/night is kind to you, stay safe and take care of yourself, okay?

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to scream in the comments about what you'd like to see next because right now, this is just a work centered around two irrelevant scenes haha whoops, but i hope y'all enjoy it anyway!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/youkanstay)


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